


Sing Hallelujah

by Cyrelia_J



Series: The Unrivaled Extraverse [8]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Garak is thicc af, Hand Jobs, Humor, Intercrural Sex, Light Masochism, M/M, Penis Spanking, Polyamory, Scheming lizards, Size Kink, Spanking, Stockings, Uncircumcised Penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-04 14:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14021802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyrelia_J/pseuds/Cyrelia_J
Summary: (Sequel to "Judas" and Gemini")So maybe Garak was right about Parmak being too much for him to handle. It's a bit late now that he's stuck on the car ride from Hell with Parmak in the driver's seat. He just prays that he makes it home in one piece and that he has the place to himself so he can calm back down. Well, Garak should be out for the next few hours so no worries there, right?"“It looks like Elim’s Law proves right again!” Kelas declared completely ignoring the honking horn. Julian said a silent prayer and thought the next time one of those Vulcans came knocking at the door of the clinic with a little pamphlet about Surak showing him the true way he might just take them up on it if he made it out of this alive."Had to divide into 2 chapters hereChapter 1 is said car ride from hellChapter 2 is Julian's relieved return to an empty house (Spoiler alert: Garak is very much home and very much dressed up to display everything that gets Julian's motor revving)Modern AU (aliens still aliens)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well this was originally just going to be more garashir but as I lamented on tumblr, I really can't throw Parmak into a story without him ending up screwing Julian, Garak or both so OT3 from here on out. Also the reason I switching the series it was part of since it's definitely gone rogue haha. Chapter 1 is all Julian/Parmak and 2 will be all the naughty Julian/Garak so stay tuned. 
> 
> Also, while I did draw heavily from Tinsnip's awesome work into Cardassian anatomy I made a few tweaks to suit my own tastes here and there as well but nothing too jarring I hope. Thank you and enjoy!

Kelas Parmak is a monster, a thoroughly depraved, unrepentant monster. That’s what Julian thinks as he practically collapses inside the front door to his and Garak’s apartment. He slams the door behind him locking the deadbolt and doorknob both although he knows Parmak- yes, Parmak that name perfectly fitting for a demon!- isn’t following. Julian saw him drive off after... yeah... _Still, no reason to take any unnecessary chances._

“Garak?” he calls out, voice still strained waiting to see if there’s an answer. Parmak swore that he was home but perhaps he was mistaken? It’s hard to believe that Garak isn’t still at “Rice”. Whatever it is that he does there it seems to take hours, and Garak has only ever said that he goes there to work on his sketches. 

That doesn’t particularly explain the days when he storms into the living room like a thundercloud, speaking in Mandarin darkly under his breath leaving Julian tempted to learn it just to understand him. Julian will ask him if he’s had a poor lunch and he’ll simply smile and say something didn’t sit well with him. Julian has never understood why he continues to patronize a place that gives him such frequent food poisoning but if anything it’s ensured that he’s never accepted Garak’s invitation to lunch there; Garak has some strange obsession with constantly asking him to lunch. He’s pretty sure that Garak thinks he just hates Chinese food at this point.

Julian doesn’t see Garak or hear anything in response so he leaves the chain off. He leans back against the door breathing heavily, the heat in the apartment swimming around him, Garak’s scent swimming around him as well just adding to that dizzying arousal that’s still half lingering. _God, Garak… I can almost smell you like you’re here. It smells like Chinese, clove, and you and I’m sure I’ve lost my mind because you’re not even here._ Julian isn’t even sure he can move yet, the rush from the garage to inside, and then the elevator trip up a torture enough. He quickly unknots the borrowed jacket reverse tied around his waist and prays the doorman Ralph bought his excuse that he spilled something on the front of his pants.

That’s not entirely a lie. He most certainly did spill something or rather leaked something, several somethings, several gallons though his underwear after that miserable ride on the Parkway and now, _now_ it all makes sense! Parmak in a complete polar opposite of Garak wears sincerity like a suit of armor but it’s nothing but an insidious rouse and they’re both nothing but a pair of _evil_ scheming lizards! _And here you are still miserably in lust with them both. You’re a sad, sad man, Julian._  

He gives a thoughtful suck to his fingers, still tasting Parmak, knowing that isn’t going to help his semi in the least. Well, he has a high speed internet connection and his right hand to keep him company; Julian never claimed not to be a masochist. _And speaking of masochism..._ He gingerly touches the bite on his neck feeling feeling it tender, amazed that Parmak didn’t break skin as hard as he’d bitten him. Julian mentally adds “biting” to a growing list of new fetishes including “exhibitionism”, and “hands jobs in the car”. If Parmak and Garak get their way he has no doubt that he’ll be adding a laundry list more but right now Julian’s feeling about two parts aroused and one part salty.

That ride was a torturous haze of hot car and hotter Kelas. _Let’s keep you ready for Elim, he says_ _Let’s make sure it’s all working, oh yes Julian, touch me there... Lord, if Garak was here I’m sure I wouldn’t last more than a brush of his hand. Ah, but that was the idea wasn’t it? Get your head all turned around ’til you can’t see straight then throw you right on up where Garak would be waiting in what? Nothing but a bow?_ Alright, that thought is going to move him to a three to one ratio and he really thinks he’s more cause to be mad than his penis seems to think.  It’s just so hard- _difficult, Julian difficult_! And that lingering Garak smell in the air coupled with all the other smells is making it impossible for him to just stay mad. He looks for another focus as he takes a deep breath and takes a few shaky steps promising not to touch himself until he can at least slink off to his bedroom and get out of his sticky clothes. 

Julian unties the jacket with an embarrassed cringe, vowing to wash it twice before returning it to Parmak. It would serve them both right if he told them to sod off but... but dammit he wants them both so badly now he can barely remember why exactly he thought this was all a bad idea. Well aside from the fact that between the both of them he may very well die. Especially if Garak is even half as sinister as his “dear friend”.  _Dear friend, my foot. The two of you ought to come with a warning level, fire hazard, highly combustible and I don’t care what you say Parmak I know that you were ready steady go right there. Practice? You think I need practice!? Ten more minutes in that car and Stopthinkingaboutit… stopthinkingaboutit!_ Yeah, that’s easier said than done.

 

Forty Five Minutes Ago...

 

Julian understood when taking a seat in the ancient half rusted Geo why there was no concern for the upholstery. The seats were draped with those wooden bead seat covers that Julian had sworn they stopped making twenty years ago. They looked about that old too, finish likely long worn off and he sat down noticing the heat in the car was well above safe levels. Julian knew better than to ask a Cardassian to run the air conditioner though he doubted that it still worked if it even had one in the first place. Thankfully, Kelas rolled the window down at least letting a breeze blow through prompting Julian to do the same. He remembered the forecast saying  upper eighties and near ninety percent humidity or as the woman on the Cardassian cast cheerfully chirped “good picnic weather”. Julian was just starting to halfway relax when Kelas sat down, those stupid shorts somehow riding even higher on his bare legs.

 If Kelas had been a human Julian didn’t think it would be possible to be swathed in so little fabric without showing more than intended (like some of those old men at the gym he tried not to think about) but as it stood, Julian could only lend his imagination to what lay underneath those short shorts. More specifically his thoughts drifted pervertedly to what lay beneath the fabric between those slightly parted legs. That was part of the erotic allure for him where Cardassian men were concerned; not merely the mystery of what might be everted but the fascinating biology as well. 

There was an incredible thrill when his fingers would press over a wet slit- the _ajan_ he remembered it was called then feel slick scales part swollen with arousal, to the still inverted cock, the _prUt_ just waiting to grow, to bloom beneath his touch into a thick hard shaft that he loved to... _Okay Julian, down boy, pull that back stat!_ But it was difficulty not to let his thoughts wander when Kelas took a ridiculously long time in checking mirrors, fiddling with his phone, with the radio and-

“My apologies, Julian. It seems I may have forgotten to adjust the seat back from the last time,” he looked terribly apologetic as he messed with the seat adjust going forward then backward and forward again with a loud thud each time.

“Was someone else driving your car?” Julian asked politely hoping for another distraction. 

“No, why would you think that?” Kelas asked ignorant of the mental images that popped into Julian’s head at just what other activity would cause the seat to have been adjusted that far back and down. _So much for trying to think of something non sexual to focus on…_ His self control was just about shot as it was. Somehow knowing that Kelas was aware of his state, knowing that he very well couldn’t get any damn harder had signaled to his brain that he was completely free to leer, to drool, to imagine sliding a hand over the gray scales of that thigh and let it slide into that junction boldly. 

“No reason,” he replied in a strangled voice that caused Kelas to turn his head and study him a moment. Those eyes drifted down to his lap and Julian snatched the nearest thing he could find, which was a massive book called “The Science of Mind”. He slapped it down over his lap so quickly he nearly saw stars. That did absolutely nothing except make his cock twitch underneath in angry arousal and as much as that stung it really shouldn’t have felt so good. Great, this entire mess was turning him into a deviant. “Can you just... d-drive,” he pleaded, shutting his eyes, trying to will the damn thing back down having no idea why all of a sudden he was like some sex crazed demon incapable of five seconds of rational thought. It had to be Kelas. He was never doubting anything Garak said ever again!

Kelas sighed sounding every bit the doctor. He removed that book with a click of his tongue tossing it in the back into a pile of various clothes, books, and... Julian was pretty sure they hadn’t made Frutopia since the early 2000s. 

“Now how are we ever going to keep you ready for Elim if you can’t relax, Julian?” Julian blinked at him stupidly. His mouth was so dry that the decades old Fruitopia was almost starting to seem like a viable beverage option.

“Kelas... you know it’s at least a half hour if you’re not taking the Parkway. I don’t think I need to be... em... “ready” the entire time.”

“I’d never forgive myself if we were to arrive and your malady returned.” He pushed his glasses back up and studied Julian’s lap. “Is that your peak level of arousal?” Kelas asked him perfectly academically.

“I... ah... think so?” Julian asked self consciously. He really didn’t need Kelas staring like that with such a blank expression.

“Hmm,” Kelas said thoughtfully and Julian reached for the seatbelt hoping that maybe he could just strap the damn thing down. Kelas smacked his hand away. “No that won’t do. I’ve been driving longer than you’ve been alive and it will just be in the way.” Kelas looked at him gravely. “Do you know how many people are killed by seat belts each year?”

“I think you might have that reversed?”

“One of my students, Jonathan had given me all the literature and believe me, we’re better off without those things.”

“Right but um... there are laws.”

“That’s what they want you to think, Julian.” Kelas patted his hand. Julian was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining all those people getting tickets but Kelas swore he’d never gotten a ticket for anything a day in his life. Julian just hoped he didn’t go off on some “jet fuel doesn’t melt steel beams” tangent but in retrospect that would absolutely kill his erection dead faster than one could say “sexy conspiracy lizard” so it might have been helpful right about then.

Julian decided that it was hardly worth arguing over and if he ended up going through the windshield as a result of his poor life choices this one included then it was only rightly karma at this point. Kelas however took that silence and just smiled at him. Julian smiled back automatically.

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed, Julian,” Kelas informed him as he took a moment to plug his phone into a cassette adaptor and fiddle with the radio before starting the car. “From what I can see your penis is of an admirable size. Especially when one factors in height, build, racial considerations. You know Elim has a theory about human male genitalia in relation to height and body type.” Julian swore he saw Kelas lick his lips but it was gone so fast he must have imagined it.

“He... does?” Julian asked stupidly, the Geo giving a jerk as Kelas turned the engine over and shifted and of _course_ Kelas knew exactly what to do with a stick.

“Mmm, yes,” Kelas smiled at him amused. “We call it Elim’s Law since scientific research has proven the repeatability.” Julian wasn’t about to ask what scientific research that was exactly as he turned to look out the window, some streaming service kicking on- _Oh this cannot be for real._   He’d know that album anywhere. If Garak hadn’t owned a laser turntable Julian was sure Tove Lo’s “Lady Wood” would’ve already had the grooves worn out as many times as Julian had to listen to the record barricaded in his room with headphones. Why headphones? So he didn’t think too much about Garak prancing around like Gloria Swanson in nothing but a clingy satin bathrobe with a cocktail in one hand and some antique Chinese fan in the other. “This is also one of Elim’s favorite albums so I thought it might help you keep the mood. Is it working?”

Julian thought it was rather obvious that it was working and turned to tell him that when he saw Kelas’ eyes nowhere near on the road but rather on his-

“Shouldn’t you be watching where you’re driving?” Julian asked quickly, feeling his heart nearly skip a beat when Kelas blithely merged into traffic with a cheerful wave to an angry human in a large SUV.

“It looks like Elim’s Law proves right again!” Kelas declared completely ignoring the honking horn. Julian said a silent prayer and thought the next time one of those Vulcans came knocking at the door of the clinic with a little pamphlet about Surak showing him the true way he might just take them up on it if he made it out of this alive. Julian had never been terribly religious but enduring the next several minutes of Kelas obliviously swaying to the music while clinically listing off everything that he was sure Garak liked had convinced him that he may have needed to bring some sort of higher belief into his life to grant him strength in moments such as those.

An atheist’s prayer to God to move the traffic fell on deaf ears. _The last refuge of a scoundrel indeed_ , Julian thought as he watched Kelas drum his fingers on the steering wheel while the car crept along in neutral. He had thankfully calmed down a little bit at least though having to hear Kelas explaining such personal details as Garak being excessively fond of a mouth to his _ajan_ was keeping him with at least half a semi as he continued to picture those mental images. He’d been tempted to asked Kelas how on _Earth_ he knew such detail about Garak friend or not but decided it was another one of those things he was better off not knowing. Julian was sure he’d be hard pressed to even imagine if his friend Miles had any particular birthmarks below clothes let alone the precise level of anatomic detail Kelas was giving him right down to some sensitive patch of scales right near his _chuva_. That was a mental picture Julian didn’t need trying to keep his eyes open so they didn’t shut and let him drift to a dreamland where Garak gorgeous and nude lay out in front of him like a sassy diagram with cartoon arrows pointing to everything that Kelas was describing. 

“Well this will never suffice,” Kelas had said suddenly causing Julian to make the fatal mistake of turning his head to look at him in response to that sound and that was when he saw it. He wasn’t sure if the catch was intentional at this point be he was absolutely certain now that Kelas was looking at him with something a shade beyond friendly speculation. There was a certain sheen to his eyes- a common sign of interest in Cardassians especially noticeable when the light would case over that thin skin just right, a narrowing of pupils like a snake about to ambush prey. Julian certainly felt like prey when Kelas’ eyes met his and he let him know with a huff of breath that it looked like he might need additional assistance after all. 

“W-what?” Julian stammered out, feeling his eyes take another lascivious sweep over Kelas’ body once more.

“You can’t possibly fade while we’re only halfway there Julian,” Kelas informed him matter of factly. 

He could and he would and he was about to tell him as much because Julian would be _damned_ if he was going to walk past through the lobby in any further state of disarray. That presumptuous old doorman Ralph was just as gossipy as Garak was and just about as discreet too. Julian opened his mouth to say just that much as well. It was then he looked at the hand that was suggestively rubbing up and down the steering wheel- practically jacking it off-, looked at the flick of Kelas’ tongue tasting air as if it were tasting him, and absolutely caved like a Ferengi on Deal or no Deal.

“What… what did you have in mind?” He asked thinking that whatever the hell happened in this car he was taking to his grave. 

“Oh, Elim was so insistent on having you first,” Kelas whispered to himself so low that it wouldn’t have been heard by a Cardassian but…

But Julian absolutely had heard him and who did Garak think he was anyway in trying to dictate whether or not Kelas was allowed to make a move on Julian when he’d been too afraid to this entire time? It was a rather annoying reminder of just why he hadn’t just rushed into things with Garak from the get go and why were they rushing to even get him back there when he wasn’t home and Kelas clearly wanted him in some manner or another? Well in fairness that had been in the past _before_ they had talked but a tiger didn’t changed its stripes and a jealous drama lizard didn’t do a total one eighty in the span of a week.

“Kelas?” Julian asked finding himself just a touch breathless. Lump it. He’d sort that out later, later when he got home, later tomorrow, later when his cock wasn’t back at attention at the prospect of getting some much needed action.

“Hmm?”Kelas’ eyes pulled back up to Julian’s face, those spectacles slipping again as he gave another tempting tongue flick. His head gave a little tilt to the side and Julian could see the woman in the caravan next to theirs so focused on her gaggle of children that she wasn’t even remotely interested in anything they were up to. There wasn’t a ramp merging for a second and he couldn’t believe that he was saying this and was he ever praying that he wasn’t reading everything egregiously incorrectly but-

“Do you think you might give me a hand with that?” It would be too risky to try and kiss him with the bodily turn Kelas would need to make and the last thing they needed was the car stalling or god forbid to end up hitting the BMW in front of them. The license plate read “QUEEN B” and that didn’t seem likely to belong to a woman who’d appreciate a tap from Kelas’ old wreck. 

Kelas smiled at him and Julian watched his hand slide down that steering wheel slowly, as if there was still some internal conflict. Julian could feel his heart racing with anticipation and he guided that hand to his cock, thinking that age hadn’t made him wiser, that turning thirty had just given him some kind of crazy mid life crisis to be acting like this but- but… _Oh… oh…_

“Oh…” His head smacked the headrest, or rather his neck smacked the low headrest making his neck crack and he almost arched off the seat when Kelas’ hand made contact with that bulge in his pants. Julian swore the thing grew in size like the Grinch’s heart, tripling with fury. It made him bite his lip and grip the plastic handle on the door like he was going down the Aerosmith Coaster at Disney Paris on his last school trip to France before immigrating to America. 

Julian’s hips pushed up; it wasn’t a conscious action of his own intention. His body was moving on its own as Kelas palmed him, squeezed him, his eyes darting between the traffic and his hand. _Well so much for not causing a wreck._ Kelas obviously didn’t do halfway measures, already half turned in the seat and Julian rightly didn’t know how he was even keeping the car moving the way he was. Julian really hoped he didn’t end up pulling the plastic molding off as he gripped it even tighter.

“Do you think that you might show it to me, Julian?” He could hear the drop in that voice not quite above a whisper. It sounded absolutely aching and Julian forgot all about the car and propriety while his hands unstuck from the tacky plastic and immediately started fumbling with his zipper. Kelas sounded like just the sight of Julian’s naked cock was the most exquisite and exciting prospect he’d ever had in his life as they came to another complete stop. Julian was tempted to drag the moment out the way those slit pupils were positively shimmering but he was anxious about anyone really taking note of what they were doing so he was quick, flushed with pleasure when Kelas half stuttered that it was lovely that Julian’s “pretty piece of human masculinity” was fully intact. His uncircumcised penis was a novelty when he was at school in the States but he’d never thought anything particularly remarkable about it- at least until he realized that there seemed to be some strong preferences on both sides of the aisle and Garak definitely had a point when he said that humans were just plain off at times.

“I do hope that you give Elim my apologies,” Kelas said sounding both contrite and eager at the same time as he pushed his glasses back up on his face. It was that face Julian was focused on when Kelas finally reached down with that damp, strong grip and started stroking him in earnest. _God yes yess like that oh... oh..._ He always loved that slide, the skin back, over the sensitive head, Kelas giving just a slight little twist, a little extra tug of skin sending surges of heat right there singing sensation right along with the beat of the music fast then slow, those drums making him feel positively primitive with lust. Julian thought- when he was capable of forming half a thought that is- that if anything Garak owed _him_ an apology for keeping Julian from having a taste of either one of them in the last two years. 

Surely it was the hand job talking. The images in Julian’s mind swung wildly between the two Cardassians, picturing both Kelas on his knees between Julian’s spread legs with those spectacles slipping and that soft inviting mouth bobbing up and down on his inflamed cock, and Garak spread out like a lush banquet on that stupid sofa he was always banging on about keeping clean. Julian would ravage both Garak and that sofa both. Julian didn’t even know he could be so profligate until he was biting his knuckle to keep his voice from carrying to other cars when they reached one of the merging on ramps.

He ducked his head, trying his best to hide his face in his shoulder, cars on both sides of theirs now. Julian was thankful if nothing else that it would be near impossible for any police to get through the bumper to bumper traffic to arrest either of them for indecent exposure. As he caught a brief glimpse of the car next to theirs though –aside from wondering how a Ford probe that clapped out was even running- he realized that he was looking right at the same man he’d given a thumbs up to the other night on his date with Dukat and he was sure he’d die right there. The man gave him a look along with a curious glance to Kelas and Julian could hear him amongst the city noise yelling “Big improvement, man!” with another thumbs up. Julian was going to die. He really was. He managed an embarrassed thumbs up back and well what could one really say to that but thank you? Nothing except perhaps to wave with a free hand leaving none on the wheel like Kelas was doing before shooting the man a thumbs up as well.

“Is he a friend of yours, Julian?”Kelas asked in a voice far too conversational as he continued those long indulgent strokes.  Julian was about to say no, he’d never met the man and it was just an incredibly bizarre coincidence but  Kelas decided then that it might be a fun change of pace to insinuate his finger between skin and glans and Julian swore his eyes were about to roll back and stick upside down. All that came out of his mouth was a series of staggered breaths interspersed with his aborted attempts at “no not really.” Too many “n”s came out as just “Nnnnngh” and some moan that possibly sounded like it bordered on pain finished that non sentence.

There was another attempt to beg Kelas to put his hands back on the wheel but that finger stroking kept circling the tip, kept making him spill more precome slicker, faster, Kelas just working him until Julian felt the throb between that grip and feel that tight pressure in his balls. He really wished there was some practical way to tug his pants clear off but at this point it would definitely draw and and... Kelas turned his wrist, stopping his stroke at the base, fingers moving over his sac two layers of clothes not making a horrible bit of different as he pressed alternating fingers making that roll, making Julian’s stomach get tight and he was so hot, that he couldn’t possibly hold off any longer.

“Kelas,” he gasped and nearly screamed when Kelas managed to work his fingers down the opening of those stretchy trunks, cupping his balls, palm still rotating over Julian’s cock. They were stopped again and Julian could feel Kelas’ eyes on him once more convinced the man was driving half sideways and driving them both to their deaths or rather a little death or “K-Kelas…” Julian whined again not even knowing what he expected hm to do in this situation. His hands were gripping both seat and door handle hard, knuckles turned white as he rocked against that palm so close so close... He could see Kelas’ eyes in the mirror a moment still slitted, still glazed like he was about to go through a molt.

Julian was sure if the expression on his face was any indicator that surely Kelas was nearly as affected as he was in spite of the lack of visual evidence. He tried to remember to breathe and as the humid outside breeze blew through the car he could catch that scent hitting his olfactory senses hard. Julian licked his lips, both of them stuck with the heat and the dryness of his mouth. He could see Kelas squirm on the seat and though he couldn’t quite tell with the black fabric he didn’t need much of an imaginative stretch to picture the wetness seeping through the fabric even lacking a full eversion. One of Julian’s favorite ways to please a Cardassian male pre eversion was to pleasure the slit of that _ajan_ with his mouth. It was exciting to feel those hard little scales start to part with the swell that that sex, to start feeling that hot fluid spill past his lips, dribble down his chin while the rest readied itself for eversion and god, Julian wanted to touch him to badly. He wanted to feel it slick between his fingers.

“Are you thinking of me Julian?” Kelas asked him breathing harder and from anyone else it would sound like a coy little tease but that genuine curiosity was there and Julian could not possibly see how it should be anything but obvious. Well, to anyone but Kelas, he was learning. That motion on his prick slowed to almost nothing all of a sudden and it made Julian’s hips start bucking harder, legs spreading wider in that small cabin of the old car. He heard an old can crunch beneath his foot, a slide of papers as he tried for some purchase so that he could finish.

“Yes… yes...” _You’ve no idea all the dirty filthy things that I want to do to you and Garak both._  

“Please offer Elim my apologies for the thoughts I’ve been having about you now…” Kelas said and he was back to that faster stroking, Julian about to lose it when he stopped, holding the base of his cock tightly and just another thrust, another squeeze, Julian begging him to let him come.

“Please…P-p-please…I need to... I can’t...” he panted, thinking he was about to rip that door handle clear off.

“This is the second time I’m asking, Julian. You’ll do that right?” Why oh why Kelas was so stuck stupid on that Julian had no idea but right then he’d agree to anything Kelas asked of him.

“Yes… promise yes whatever you want… please may I…” He didn’t know why he said it quite like that but there was a renewed light to Kelas’ eyes at that overly polite phrasing.

“Yes, yes you’re such a good boy,” Kelas said praising him eagerly, his grip switching so fantastically all of a sudden that Julian’s entire body jerked off the seat.

He was flying, that’s what he was, soaring through the air like Marvel’s Falcon right then as he released, feeling his cock pulse hard into Kelas’ hand to keep from shooting clear up his chest. Julian didn’t care about any of that as he felt that sink into a little death gripping him, head practically merging with the seat as he finally came down, lazily lolling to the side back and forth realizing that they were back to just their two lanes and judging by the exit number at least another ten minutes to go. Right, that would give him sufficient time to recover and to get his wits back and ask Kelas just exactly what was going on between the two of _them_ now because surely this was beyond a bit of “helping him out”. He was going to try and sort all of that in ten minutes somehow, by some miracle he swore to himself, until he saw Kelas bringing his fingers to his mouth continuing their slow crawl up the Parkway like he was having a lick of an ice lolly instead of licking Julian’s seed off.

Julian groaned, already feeling his prick starting to stir back and the least he supposed he could do was try and stuff it back into his pants before that became impractical.

“Sorry,” Kelas said catching that look and that groan. “I’m afraid I’m not sure where the Kleenex went so well, one has to make do.” He followed that up with a long swipe of his tongue up his palm. “I would offer my mouth to you but well someone has to drive and Elim said you don’t have a license so…” he trailed off with a little apologetic shrug like the only reason he wasn’t letting Julian use his mouth as a cleaning wipe was the fact that he was driving. Maybe it was. Though Kelas hardly seemed to keep driving as his number one priority since thinking back Julian thought the car might have stalled at one point in the midst of all that. He could be wrong. He could be a lot of things. What he definitely _wasn’t_ though was thinking about all the questions that he was a moment ago. Instead he was picturing the crazy notion of having Kelas pull over and blow him right there.

Julian could see a flick of mess on those spectacles as he carelessly pushed them back up and the picture of coming all over that face, those darkened ridges, those scales shiny with sweat, and those spectacles… god Julian wanted to coat them with his come and… and he was definitely just about painfully hard again and he had no idea what odd esoteric rule set seemed to exist between Kelas and Garak since it seemed one of those rules was _not_ giving Julian hand job in his car or anything else that Julian might rather have liked at some point before now.

“Would you really?” Julian blurted out knowing that he was giving him such a look of longing that it likely wasn’t fair but nothing about this situation was fair. Kelas looked at him uncertainly in the rearview mirror like he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Right, I know, Garak,” Julian answered for him with an irritated sigh thinking to himself that maybe if he just buggered Garak senseless already he’d knock off this ridiculous jealousy and possessiveness and- “wait, you said that you weren’t allowed to have me _first_?” First after all, would imply that there would then be someone who was second and as unusual as that sounded Garak frequently harped on the fact that Julian was “ready” for Kelas not that he should avoid him altogether and with Garak the key was hearing the things he didn’t say. Well if that was the case it was a sentiment that Julian was in complete agreement on because there was just something about the man that made him want to give in to whatever vulgar, absurd little thing he might ask. _God, Julian, it was what, an hour ago that you’d never even given him a second thought beyond being Garak’s weird old friend and how you’re sitting here daydreaming about shoving your rod halfway down his throat on the Parkway._

So Garak may have had a point there about Kelas’... allure. But it wasn’t like his newly discovered desire for Kelas had dampened his desire to be with Garak. Far from it; the two were night and day as the saying went and as much as he was sitting here lusting after the disheveled Kelas, he was equally dreaming about seeing Garak in a similar state of distress. There… really was something wrong with him. Kelas put his eyes back on the road and Julian realized they were actually about to get back into gear again for the first time in forever. He also realized that Kelas had been silent on the question for some time. He appeared to be deep in thought when Julian looked over.

“Elim and I have had some discussion on the matter,” he said evasively. 

“And?” Julian probed. It looked like something that wasn’t meant to be discussed with anyone else and Julian was a touch irritated that the two of them seemed to have some strange secret talk about him like he was the last slice of pizza but he was admittedly curious.

Again, Kelas was silent, and Julian was about to content himself with looking out the window now that his heart rate was back to normal and they were finally getting closer to his apartment.

“I understand Julian, that you’re still cross with Elim but… it isn’t necessary to feign an interest if you don’t have one. I’m content to know that I could be of help in some way.” Julian didn’t even bother this time trying to point out that once again there was no problem with his penis from the outset. Fine, let Kelas think his malady was cured or whatever; intentional or not, Kelas was giving him an out of this far more complicated situation should he chose to take it. Julian looked over and admittedly, while he was fond of Kelas in the abstract, the truth of the matter was he’d hardly been afforded much of an opportunity to get to know him- thanks Garak- so it wasn’t like he was planning on diving into something serious anyway. 

That look also reinforced the other point (if he were to be crudely honest with himself) of just how damn hot Kelas was underneath all the unflattering clothing, how uninhibited, and how desperately Julian wanted to screw him since as long ago as an hour- be quiet, brain! Beyond that there also seemed to be some clandestinely arranged Julian sharing between the two friends that he just couldn’t help be intrigued by (when it wasn’t irritating him) and dammit Kelas had just completely changed the subject on him!

“What _I_ don’t understand is why you wouldn’t think I’d find you attractive.” He held up a hand. “I mean _now_. Now that I’ve seen you out of ten layers of clothes and er... without your spectacles,” he added since that seemed to be some key point in all of it. 

Kelas laughed loudly, like, really loudly like Julian just said the funniest thing ever. “It’s just... it’s just a body... and a pair of glasses, you precious silly boy!” Kelas laughed a good while long and Julian really just... didn’t get it though he was beginning to suspect when Garak once described Kelas as “sensitive” it was really a euphemism for “weird” like when his aunt used to describe his bug eating cousin Alastair as “special”. Although Alastair was a member of Parliament and Julian was sitting in a Geo Metro with his prick hanging out so perhaps he was truly the “special” one. Julian managed a smile for him thinking at least he’d gone his whole life without a live grasshopper in his mouth so Alastair and his Aunt Emmeline could both sod off. _Oh thank you, finally the exit._

“You didn’t answer my question, Kelas,” Julian said deciding that he might just try and use one of the many shirts in the back to cover his front. He was about to start discreetly finishing for something between two likely cracked VHS copies of  “Waterworld”. Without looking, Kelas reached back, grabbed a green hoodie that said “Kokomo” with a band of... Muppets, seriously, Muppets? and handed it to him. 

“I absolutely answered you. You didn’t find my answer satisfactory.” Julian shot him a wry grin.

“Do you and Garak have some weird... agreement about me?” He pressed seeing Kelas start to hum along uncomfortably with the music in response. Kelas turned it up and Julian started to poke him just as the ironic “let’s just keep it simple so I don’t have to face ya” came on. Julian sighed and turned it down.

“Or are you just trying to give my ego a boost since you did Garak a favor or something?” Julian didn’t really think that was it but oh dear lord Kelas just slammed on the brakes!

The pickup behind them had to brake hard too with a honk of the horn and Julian caught himself on the dash thankful they were in the city limits and Kelas wasn’t going more than ten miles an hour through the after school crawl. He couldn’t even begin to imagine his poor mother’s embarrassment seeing some scandalous headline in the Daily Mail about some twiggy expat flying through the windshield to his death with his willy out. 

“Kelas?” he asked, sure his voice just cracked in panic as the car stalled amidst more ferocious horn honking. 

“You don’t really believe that do you Julian?” He asked giving a turn, looking so terribly concerned that Julian immediately felt like complete rubbish. Alright, so maybe “sensitive” wasn’t a euphemism after all.

“No, no not at all I mean ah... perhaps we can ah... pull over or something or maybe finish our talk if we right, there’s my building! You can restart and pull into the garage there!” Julian exclaimed relieved. Kelas took his sweet time restarting the car and getting moving again. But at least now and Julian wouldn’t have to worry about any road rage incidents. All he had to do was hope that Mrs. “Why can’t I sublet your spot when you’re not even using it?” from 404 didn’t have her husband’s pet SS Chevelle parked in it. Right, he didn’t drive and didn’t own a car but it was _his_ space and if she really needed that much extra room she and the Mister could pack up to the Hamptons like the sister she was always bleating about.

It was thankfully empty and that left a bit of an awkward park. Kelas shut the music off when the car finally stopped and Julian thought that there was something else that he was trying to say. 

“Elim is my dearest friend,” he explained to Julian, facing him with a serious expression. “So you should absolutely understand that when he said to me that it would be unforgivable for me to ride you off into the sunset before he even gets a taste that no matter my personal feelings I intend to respect that. He wouldn’t really hang me from the rafters from my braid of course but he would be terribly cross. Bros before ho’s, is that the saying you have here?” Wait, did Kelas just... call him a ho’?

“um... Kelas? I-”

“You are a very fine ho’ Julian,” Kelas assured him taking his hands with an expressive duck of his head and Julian really should have told him that wasn’t a compliment but... but he heard Garak in his head with a start _“Don’t. Do it.”_ And he wisely kept silent.

“Ah... thank you,” Julian said because there really wasn’t anything else to say to that. “Would it help to reassure you if you had proof of my interest?” Would it... what? Julian was sure that Kelas had long left him in the dust on this conversation and he was rather dazed as it was just looking forward to changing and having a shower before Garak returned so they could talk.

“A-alright...” Whatever that was supposed to... what was he doing?! What he was doing was moving Julian’s hand to his lap, between his legs in the cramped car and Julian could feel the air hit his eyeballs as large as they grew when Kelas guided Julian’s hand to his- “oh god...”

“It’s alright, Julian, I just want you to be reassured.” Reassured? Reassured?! “Reassured” was _not_ the word that Julian would use for what he was feeling. Well there went that sense of bodily calm, right out the window.

Julian licked his lips, and with just the two of them in the car with the stagnant air, he could smell them both, that musk of his own come still sticky but also Kelas’ arousal as Julian’s fingers just couldn’t help but rub, just a little. Now that he was looking at Kelas properly he could see those ridges dark, flushed with blood, could see his mouth slacken, head falling against the headrest uncomfortably. Sure, there was a lot of sweat making that fabric damp, but that was different than the hot slick moisture that Julian was feeling start to make it wetter.

“Is that...” Kelas was panting, and it occurred to Julian as sensitive- much different type of sensitive again- as he was already that he must have spent the entire trip with a comparable level of arousal. “Is that satisfactory?” Kelas asked, that hissing draw back to his voice sounding almost pained. 

Julian was beginning to understand that Kelas didn’t understand humor, innuendo, or even tone half the time so he didn’t quite know how his words would be received but he had to try. 

“What if it isn’t satisfactory?” Julian had asked having no idea what he thought he was doing in the parking lot of all places at his age but as he asked that question, his hand was already rubbing Kelas’ smooth thigh, the scales soft beneath his finger, a slight ripple of difference there but he adored that texture of Cardassian scales. The stretchy fabric of those shorts was easy to push out of the way that he almost slipped his hand up the leg but decided the angle would be much better though the waistband. Julian was practically trembling with excitement as his fingers moved closer to Kelas’ _ajan_. Julian saw Kelas’ hand move in answer and thought he might push him away but he didn’t. His hand cupped Julian’s face- his left this time though he wouldn’t have objected to licking the last few stains of his seed from Kelas’ right and Julian noticed that he shifted on the seat turning his right knee out towards the center console letting Julian have better access.

“Then you can... feel for yours-self...”

Julian took that as permission to continue, Kelas looking at him, stained spectacles slightly askew, hair even more mussed, so many fine white strands falling loose from where it had been pulled back. Julian had no idea how a man who hadn’t so much as everted could look so thoroughly wrecked but he did. Again he thought of how badly he wanted to kiss him but had a hunch this was one of those weird “Garak first” things and instead just enjoyed the study of his face. Julian could see in his peripheral vision that Kelas had started slowly twisting the bottom of his shirt around his fingers, right hand clutching the fabric hard seeming like he would rip it when Julian’s fingers finally moved right over the slightly swollen and parted slit. _Oh... oh that’s so..._

“Tsss.... tsss...” He felt Kelas grab behind his head, half tugging his hair, pulling heir foreheads together with a close of his eyes and another half moan, half hiss. “There... there.... yes...” came out as a bit of a slurred “z” sound.

Julian felt his fingers sink slowly into that stick warm slit, feeling the tremble of his still soft _prUt_ just waiting to to evert- those soft folds ready to fill, to expand, to bloom out of the body, and Julian could feel it as he rubbed, as he teased, his own eyes closing wondering how it would feel blooming in his mouth to fullness. It was so wet, so hot, the temperature raised molten even in this sweltering summer heat. Julian didn’t think he’d ever been with a man so clearly aroused, so clearly gone but still not everted and he wondered if it wasn’t the Cardassian equivalent of some tantric sex thing. Kelas didn’t seem to have any trouble because Julian could feel it start to get hard as his fingers pushed, rubbed, thrust inside shallowly feeling those heaving breaths so close to his that he could angle his head and bring their mouths together if he dared. Kelas tugged harder on the back of Julian’s neck reminding him that Cardassians were always stronger than they appeared and that was when Julian felt his hot face rub, cheek to cheek for just a moment before Kelas bit his neck hard.

Shit... shit shit that hurt that... that felt so good and Julian was so achingly hard again that he was palming his cock through the wet pants with a groan. He had no idea what he was doing, where this was going or anything. Kelas seemed to forget a moment that Julian didn’t in fact have ridges on his neck but perhaps Julian had a touch of masochist in him. He didn’t mind at all, just moaned softly between the _suck_ “sorry” _suck_ “too hard” that Kelas breathed out even as he kept repeating the same admonishment to himself. Julian loved it. Julian wanted to pull him onto his lap in this absurd tiny car and feel him sink onto his cock, he wanted to feel Kelas bite him, scratch him as he fucked him because Kelas definitely seemed like a scratcher and oh... oh there it was, that slow press, that slow eversion and Kelas was making a subtle twitch of his head that Julian had come to know was their way of shaking back and forth in denial. 

“Oh no... no you shouldn’t shouldn’t d-d-o z-zat...” Kelas whispered, the sound of shit fabric ripping, the touch of Kelas’ hand gripping Julian’s wrist tight all belied by Kelas pushing hips up frantically, panting, the soft scales of his face rubbing Julian’s.

“Why not?”

“Becassss... becass... I... I’m g-going to...” That accent slipped harder and so did Julian. _Oh there it is, that’s so nice, that’s perfect_.  It was starting to push trough his fingers, that tip, Julian’s palm slowly massaging Kelas’ _chuva_ which was the key to the kingdom right there rewarding him with another hard press of hips, a dig of sharp nails into his wrist and a throaty growl that shot right through to his toes. A taste, surely a taste couldn’t possibly hurt.

“Might I put my mouth on it instead then?...” Yes, that would be amazing and he wasn’t sure how the hell to maneuver the both of them if there was so much crap hoarded in the infinitesimal back seat but-

He heard a noise at that moment which sounded suspiciously like a 1up mushroom and suddenly Kelas’ hand which had previously been giving a half hearted stop nearly broke his wrist as he threw it off, the hand around his neck practically throwing him back against the door and when on Earth was Kelas ever _that_ strong?!

“I’m sorry I thought-” He stopped seeing Kelas put up a finger, grabbing the phone from beneath the tape deck reading it quickly while Julian was internally panicking over what had to be some misunderstood signal or bad touch or-

“Wonderful! We don’t need to kill any more time!” Kelas exclaimed cheerfully readjusting the waistband of his shorts just as Julian’s heart stopped dead. “Elim’s home now,” he informed Julian quickly typing back some response. Kelas gave a quick glance back to the raging tent back in Julian’s pants and looked oddly satisfied. “Good good, I was afraid I’d erred in allowing you to release on the way here but I thought surely if you were back to normal functioning it shouldn’t have been an issue. Elim would have been quite put out and... ah right. You can go now, Julian,” Kelas said sending whatever reply he had typed to Garak.

Julian just... stared at him a moment, still breathing heavily. 

“Wait... are you... are you saying this was all to kill time for Garak to get home?!” Kelas laughed and wagged a finger at him.

“Ah, I know you’re just trying to get me to stroke your ego again, you naughty boy. That’s a good one but I won’t fall for it twice you know.” Kelas laughed again like it was some great joke Julian had just made.

“B-but... but you were...” Julian made a vague gesture at his lap. “Weren’t you just...”

“Oh it’s alright, Julian,” Kelas said with an affable clap to his shoulder. “We’ll work on your technique later. It’s an admirable start and you needn’t worry. Elim’s quite easy to please if you remember what I told you.” Julian didn’t know what “easy to please” Garak Kelas was talking about but he was too busy trying to figure out how Kelas went from the “oh Julian” squirming mass on the seat to “Doctor Parmak” shooing him out of the car. He wasn’t imagining it. He _knew_ he wasn’t imagining it. It was all over his hand!

“Um...” He really had no idea what to say. Kelas was texting Garak like they were arranging a lunch date, scales back to normal, coloring normal, looking happily like they hadn’t just been... “So... we’re ah... done here?” Julian asked trying to make sense of what just happened. Kelas gave him another ruffle of his hair.

“You did good, Julian,” he assured him as if reading that insecurity. _Right, thanks._ “Oh! I almost forgot.” Kelas stopped texting a moment and at this point Julian was just along for the ride when Kelas tugged on his sore wrist again bringing his hand up to his mouth. Julian didn’t even ask. He just watched as Kelas did the most amazing impromptu deep throat of digits he’d ever seen in his life giving one long last _suck_ that sucked every bit of resistance out of him.

Julian heard some dim apology once more for the Kleenex box being missing as he let Kelas practically kick him out of the car on jelly legs. He should’ve been mad or something but he was still trying to process it all when Kelas reiterated that Julian should absolutely “give Elim my apologies” for the third time. Julian finally flat out asked him what for and Kelas just waved him off and said Garak would know. Well Garak might know, and the both of them might know how to drive a human man completely mad but Julian just nodded stupidly and kept walking on autopilot. That last feel of Kelas’ mouth must have sucked his brains out because of all the things in his head _that_ was what still held his attention as he staggered out the garage praying he didn’t run into anyone he knew. Of course Ralph was there and of course Julian had to try and stammer an excuse about a drink and a crowded subway and yes he was a tad mussed from the heat thank you very much. _Thank you Garak, thank you Kelas._ God these damn infuriating lizards were going to be the death of him!

* * *

 

Which brings him back full circle to silently stewing and bemoaning the fact that he has the apartment all to himself with no outlet for... well for anything. It’s the heat, Julian decides at last as he takes a quick detour to the kitchen for a glass of water. It’s heat stroke. He’s dehydrated. That’s why he’s still thinking mainly of his fingers on Kelas’ _ajan_ and the odd promise of learning the "proper way" instead of thinking about whatever goofy plan he’s found himself in the middle of. Right. That’s exactly it. And he’s not “Kelas”, he’s “Parmak” and the both of them can go hang, Julian thinks as he tries to work more on self righteous affront. That’s also why he doesn’t even notice the extra set of footsteps behind until Garak’s voice causes him to swallow down the wrong pipe. 

“I can’t even begin to imagine which one of our discussions Kelas misunderstood this time,” Julian hears dramatically as he coughs half a glass back into the sink and blindly reaches for a paper towel. “But I suppose in his mind he thinks he’s doing me a favor so I can hardly hold it against him.”

Julian turns when he finally catches his breath back finished nearly dying from swallowing fail, eyes taking in Garak at last. And all he can think when he does and the last forty minutes fly clear out of his head is _that_ is the most delectable thing he’s ever seen in his life.

 

Julian is so completely screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Garak finally screw. The kitchen may very well not survive- mostly Julian's POV sandwiched between bits of Garak at the ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why this got so far away from me but well, I regret nothing. This did get a little freakier than intended but the tags should cover it but this universe/series is kind of my happy indulgent place so there's that. A large chunk of Cardassian biology stuff comes from Tinsnip's wonderful "Speculative Cardassian Reproductive Xenobiology" with my own twists on a few things. Hope everyone enjoys because I sure did writing it.

Garak is texting on his phone the second the door closes and he catches the unmistakable scent of Parmak. He knows Parmak isn’t actually here of course because Parmak just messaged him, but as subtle as it is when he tastes the air from the bathroom, as faint as it is intermingled with Julian’s captivating taste, there it is. _Of course it is, Elim because you know how Kelas is. “I’ll be glad to help you out, Elim. I can bring Julian home and I’ll be sure to keep him occupied though I don’t know that he might not dictate the direction that takes. I certainly hope that you won’t hold it against me. I should say in my defense that I’ve afforded you ample time to pursue your liaison and well of course it wasn’t a matter of choice on my part, you should know that he came to me Elim and have you tasted the air around him Elim?”_

Yes, Parmak had texted him a novel and Garak could just picture Parmak standing there leaned on the desk shooting those looks at Julian even as he texted the words. Of course if Garak had been firm on the matter Parmak would have respected his wishes; he always did. Parmak did have a point though when he made his one token protest on the matter saying it was hardly fair since Garak seemed disinclined to act on his own feelings. There may also have been the small matter of Garak being a terrible hypocrite when it came to the dating pool but well, Garak wasn’t vying for sainthood as they say. He also tends to believe that the disaster of a marriage to Dukat was punishment enough for “stealing Kelas’ date” with him (or as Kelas said once in a rare moment of anger karma). By the end of it Parmak had assured him over Tequila Rose and lots of brownies that he didn’t hold it against him and that he might only hope Elim might in turn grant him the same kindness.

Well there’s a world of difference between that slimy son of a regnar and the luscious twink that is Julian Bashir but Kelas is his oldest and dearest friend and he can hardly fault a Northerner his weird customs. Garak can certainly think of worse things than letting Julian divide his attention- he is a busy man after all and better to let Kelas have his indulgences than risk Julian running off with a stranger of all things. _Oh listen to yourself, Elim, acting like you’ve already sealed the deal when you’re hiding in the bathroom like a common burglar._

**_You swear that he’ll be pliable?_** Garak texts quickly, hearing Julian call his name rattling around. He just had enough time to take a quick shower and in his haste he’s sure he spilled half a bottle of the precious imported scale oil over the tile of the floor. He’s tried his best to towel it off but there was only so much he could manage without giving Kelas his blessing to do any more than he already had. He’s definitely going to have to come back to the matter when he’s not about to fuss himself into an early molt.

**_Have faith, Elim._** Is all he receives for an answer. Garak is tempted to just call him but Julian has unusually keen hearing even for a human. Garak sighs asking himself just how long he’s going to remain seated on the floor on the other side of the vanity before standing back up. Of course it’s easy for Kelas to type something back so banal. Parmak has men lined up around the block just to take his stupid class for- as Garak has seen posted on Reddit- “a chance to take the THOT Cardie yoga instructor for a ride”. Garak shakes his head. It’s a wonder the Nokarans haven’t bred themselves off the continent. _Bad enough they clog up the beaches half-dressed every summer…_ God, and now he’s starting to sound like Damar!

**_Exactly what did you do?_ **

**_He’s READY_** Garak reads it again sure that Parmak was all too happy to give Julian his innocent “touch me there so you can see how much you excite me” performance.

Well, Parmak’s ridiculous lack of inhibition aside, he has a point. Julian is there and Julian is ready whatever that means so he supposes that he’s just going to have to take a leap of faith. He’s tempted to fuss with his hair in the mirror but he knows if he starts he’s going to be there all day and he’s sure to lose his nerve. Garak doesn’t know what he was thinking in letting Parmak talk him into such a _lurid_ outfit but if there’s one thing that he’s always absolutely trusted Parmak in, it’s his ability to seduce with clothing. Oh Parmak doesn’t call it that. Parmak has some esoteric high handed descriptor that he calls an “affinity for a certain aesthetic” but he isn’t fooling anyone. Garak shudders to think the horror unleashed on the world if he actually followed his own fashion advice. 

His yoga outfit isn’t even it. No, despite the reactions that Garak has witnessed firsthand to Parmak teaching in those scraps of fabric, it truly is just a byproduct of Parmak’s upbringing. It’s the Nokaran affinity for wearing as little as possible when warm. The continent of Nokar rarely has warm days and Parmak like most Northerners tends to “enjoy the warm weather” by wearing as little as possible in the heat. Garak understand that it was an indulgence for him growing up to shed the layers of clothing he was forced to don most of the year but Garak also thinks that he’s lived on Earth long enough that he can lose some of the layers in winter and add a few in summer. 

Back on Cardassia Prime when they were living in Cardassia City proper Parmak could be convinced to go along with the majority of decent folk to blend in but when every other commercial and show on Earth is a parade of pink skin. Ah, and if Kelas hasn’t changed yet this well into middle age Garak has just come to accept that he likely never will. In any case, Garak sometimes wishes that Parmak hadn’t been so determined to pursue medicine and spiritual practices because his flair and influence in Garak’s Earth fusion designs have always played a vital part of the formula for Garak’s success. Really, Garak may have never succeeded without him and the royalties reflect that. It’s almost a pity that Parmak never wears any of his own creations but then again Garak’s ego really doesn’t need that big a bruising.

So Garak trusts him in this instance as loathe as he is to admit it, and if one were say a young doctor supposedly lusting after Garak’s body then he has to admit, the outfit should deliver results. In addition, Garak also trusts Parmak’s ability to turn the average human into Idanian pudding in a matter of minutes no matter the circumstances so if Parmak says that Julian is ready to go well then Garak would be an absolute fool to waste such an opportunity. He’s certainly not going to say “gift”. The _gift_ was him letting Parmak get half as much up on Garak as he did with Julian. _That_ was the real gift. _Hmm and so it looks like you’ll need to bring your A game to the table since Kelas likely set the bar stupidly high but… How long has it been since you’ve had a friendly little competition with Kelas? At least a few years now so you’re certainly overdue._

Garak flicks his tongue tasting the air again noticing a faint drop in Julian’s level of arousal; he ignores that it might be just a touch telling that he’s learned to read the air in the house where Julian is concerned so acutely. He takes just a moment to rub a little glossy wax over his lips. _Alright Elim, show time it is._

* * *

 

If Julian were privy to Garak’s innermost thoughts- a prospect he’s considered on more than one occasion when Garak’s behavior has left him completely mystified- he would absolutely agree that there is no better descriptor for what he’s laying his eyes on than “show time.” No, strike that. Garak’s attire goes beyond “show” to ocular feat- to a sight that literally makes his jaw drop and his breaths quicken. That initial reaction is followed by an unconsciously whispered “god almighty” and an absolutely _thirsty_ lick of his lips. Garak’s mouth may be moving. He may very well be saying something, asking Julian a question, reciting one of those unbearable Enigma Tales for all that Julian can hear him with the sudden rush of blood pounding in his ears.

Garak is… God there’s no word that would even rightly describe him- no adjective in the human lexicon that he can call to mind to accurately describe the level of desirable that Garak has achieved. At least Julian can’t properly think of one. He thinks that his proper thought processes might have shorted out right at the top where his eyes fell on Garak’s hair shower damp and already mussed. Julian imagines that nude form hastily making use of a towel upon hearing Julian’s arrival. _Oh god..._  

Julian could see strands sticking to the ridges of his neck which were... shiny, shimmering, and he recalled seeing that shine once when Garak was on an especially promising date. But then the view was only of his neck covered in that sheen, not his chest, not his… Julian swallowed as his eyes drank in Garak’s bare _chula_ tinted blue. He was wearing a robe- nothing but a robe. Nothing but a silky violet robe splashed with silver petals that clung to him, rippling elegantly. That robe was barely held belted shut with the most carelessly loose knot that Julian could envision that looked as if just a slight little tug would part it letting him see the rest of Garak’s body. His teeth, Julian wanted to tug it off with his teeth.

Yes, that’s where Julian stopped conscious thought seeing just how far down he could see with that robe about to slip off one shoulder; one shoulder that he wanted to bite. Or would he start with his chest? He didn’t know but he wanted to start somewhere and he didn’t even realize that he’d nearly fallen over until he felt the counter hit the small of his lower back while he tried to catch his breath. 

Oh no, strike that, Garak _is_ wearing something else. Only one something else that Julian wouldn’t have dreamed before but now, now it’s going to haunt every future jack off fantasy involving Garak for the rest of his days, he’s sure of it. The robe is bad enough. The robe is hardly longer than a shirt and in fact Julian is sure that Garak owns shirts longer than that garment. How does he know that? Because it stops just at the tops of his thighs, just barely covering what it needs to and all it needs is a shift, a breeze- can he somehow will the living room ceiling fan on? _Turn round… please turn around because there’s no way that robe is possibly covering everything in the back it can’t be, not with that ass…_ But the robe isn’t what completely undoes him, no. It’s the fucking stockings.

Julian doesn’t know much about fashion or clothing but he recalls Garak telling him once of the incompatibility of scales and hosiery and how any breakthrough on his part would likely net him a mint. He said he’d been working on something along those lines and if this is that something then Julian wants a dozen, a hundred- one for every day of the year. Just a few scant inches below where that robe falls short Julian can see the tops of stockings. Black stockings. Black fishnet stockings, the band looking painted on Garak’s thighs without digging in like elastic might without any need for garters. _That’s the scale stick he was talking about,_ Julian’s mind supplies pedantically before shutting down completely at the sight of that delicate black netting covering those thighs with an ornate pattern of Chinese fans. Those thick _thick_ thighs all the way down, Garak’s legs wrapped perfectly and Julian has to catch himself before he sinks to his knees like a dog and buries his face between those heavenly twins. He can only imagine the feel of that fabric sliding over his face, sliding over his hips as he-

“G… Garak?” he finally manages, honestly having no recollection of the passage of time as he forces his eyes back up. Jesus, Mary and Joseph he’s died and gone to some beautiful heavenly dream. _Are you wearing anything under that robe? You can’t possibly be. Would you be a dear and turn around? Bend over? Shit, I want a taste of you…Language... oh language… oh fuck language._ Julian tries to remember to breathe though he thinks he might be panting just a bit so all’s good there. He realizes dumbly that he’s reached such a level of arousal so immediately and thoroughly that is isn’t until Garak’s eyes fall to his crotch that he even notices just how completely _hard_ he is. 

He really ought to say something or ask something but for the life of him he can’t quite think of what to say. Well, he can start with ungluing his hands from the countertop but that leaves them dangling rather useless at his sides fists clenching and unclenching so maybe he should’ve thought that one through better. 

“You’re home,” is the astute observation that he manages before blindly reaching for the glass of water and downing the rest of it to soothe his parched throat. The smirk which greets that inane statement is completely smug and deservedly so. Alright well, there’s one for Garak.

“A little bird told me that it might be wise to make haste with my lunch today,” Garak answers giving an equally appreciative sweep up Julian’s body. 

Julian is sure he looks a mess, and he can see Garak’s eyes lingering on the mark on his neck. 

“A rather naughty little birdie who I’m going to have a long chat with sometime soon…” Garak amends as he takes a few steps, standing in front of the island at the far end of the kitchen. That robe ripples with each movement showing a little more of his chest, the scales there shiny as well and Julian thinks he almost catches a shadow of Garak’s right nipple. Garak isn’t wearing any shoes: only the robe and those stockings. He stops there, letting Julian’s eyes drink him in again, the portrait “Garak, three feet closer”, Julian’s brain brilliantly calls it. He’s about to tug at the collar of his shirt as hot as he fells, except the thing is already half unbuttoned so no, that’s all him. 

Julian sees Garak’s head tilt to the side speculatively and he decides to put his hands to use in unknotting the shirt still tied around his waist and throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He takes a step after that, about to rush like a lunatic, about to ask if he can unwrap him like a revered Birthday present when Garak holds up a finger.

“Stop.” Garak’s tongue tastes the air again and Julian sees his eyes shutter in pleasure at what he tastes. “Yes, that’s much better.” Garak steps closer still, just a few feet now, close enough to touch should Julian desire. Oh he desires, he double desires, but his mother raised a gentleman. Well, if she had any idea of his crazy shenanigans as of late she may not think so. He really needs to call her. He really needs to never think of his mother while he’s got a stiffie. 

“That’s just how I imagined you’d taste. No, I amend that, this is much better than anything I could have imagined.” Garak pauses, half seated on the tabletop, eyes not leaving Julian’s body. “But I fear you have me at a disadvantage. It hardly seems fair for our states of dress to be so inequitable…” Garak crosses his arms, that action, that minuscule bit of friction pulling the silk of the robe of that much higher and Julian almost whimpers. He was right, he’s so close to being able to just see the beginning of Garak’s- oh god, god, he wants to sink down and put his mouth to that slit, let the viscous secretions slip down his throat while Garak everts. Wow, he’s actually feeling light headed all of a sudden and ah… that was… that was a hint! Hint, Julian can do hints.

“Sh-shall I fix that?” Julian asks immediately, his hands going to the buttons of his shirt. Garak nods, pleased with his quick perception, yes, that’s it.

“Yes, slowly, please.” Slowly? Check. Julian can do slowly. He’s going to have to do slowly because his hands are shaking too much to do anything but. He’s also unbuttoning the damn little buttons by feel so that he doesn’t have to stop staring at Garak’s chest. Or rather, so he doesn’t have to stop letting his eyes rapid fire move up and down between those sensual lips curved in a wicked grin and down those thighs and that bare skin begging for his mouth. 

Julian finds himself stuck on one next to last, a thread catching and he just yanks it open, chest exposed to the humid air of the kitchen. It’s hot as hell but he still shivers, still feels his nipples peak as they brush the fabric. He lets the shirt slip from his shoulders to the floor. 

“Is that good?” he asks eagerly. “God you have to know how bloody fantastic you look. Of course you know, you wouldn’t have worn it otherwise,” he says starting to babble but needing the fill the expectant silence. “You’re killing me in that you know that right? You’re beautiful. Your body is just… _God_ your body is just so bloody perfect I just want to… I want to touch you so badly, Garak. I don’t think I could have imagined you looking half as good as this and believe me I’ve imagine it plenty and I’ve imagined it nice and me and you and ah… sorry right, I’ll shuttup.” 

Julian wasn’t really intending to say that out loud but Garak’s purely pleased look by his reaction makes it impossible to regret such a rush of unfiltered thought from his mouth. Garak looks thoughtful a moment but still just purely wicked.

“I’d ask you to disrobe the rest of the way, Julian, but I’m afraid I can’t trust you not to rip the rest of your garments in a similar fashion.” As he says that he moves closer, practically gliding across the floor and Julian can smell the oil stronger now. It’s not a strong scent and he remembers that Garak had said the scale oil was a precious commodity on Earth which was fragrant and often changed its aroma based off body chemistry. Julian smells the faint sandalwood now but he also smells that unmistakable musk of arousal and he wonders just how wet Garak’s _ajan_ is, if he’s already started everting, and just as Julian is about to beg Garak if he might touch him, Garak holds up a finger again.

“Hands on the counter,” he says and Julian can’t help but think how completely sadistic the request is as he obeys. Garak closes that distance, putting his thigh between Julian’s spread legs. Julian feels the press to his erection and he whimpers again, bites his lip, wishing it was his naked cock feeling the slide of those stockings. “Good. Isn’t that better when you listen to me?” Garak asks. He’s close enough to him now that Julian can taste him in the air as if he were a Cardassian himself. “You’re going to listen to me a little longer and I promise, your obedience will be rewarded. 

Julian looks in his eyes, and can see the pupils of Garak’s blue eyes starting to slit with desire and they’re so entrancing that he feels like a helpless little mouse hypnotized by by a seductive cobra. He nods, a soft mindless yes, Garak lightly stroking the side of Julian’s face.

“Ah, if I’d but known that it would just take a little bit of incentive to have you like this... Though I suppose it might also be Kelas,” Garak says thoughtfully and Julian nearly misses his chance to look down and see Garak’s chest up close. _Wow, Kelas who?_

Garak’s scales glisten with the overhead kitchen light catching just the right angle. Julian tries to work to a bit more eloquence but only finds a soft “who” breathed out as he memorizes the pattern of those small scales down between Garak’s pecs, over the peek of his stomach right where the belt remains knotted. “Yes,” a swipe of Garak’s thumb over Julian’s lip. “Kelas who, indeed, isn’t that right.” Julian’s tastes his thumb with another eager nod. “So eager, my dear, I think that I should finish you first, shouldn’t I? Do you think you can hold still like this?” Julian’s pretty sure that he looks like one of those mass produced bobble heads. _Yes, god finish me... Oh, undressing ha... ah you pathetic twit_. 

Garak steps back just enough for his hands to slide between them both unbuttoning Julian’s trousers, knuckles constantly brushing the swell of his groin making his cock twitch in excitement. Julian’s hands are trembling on the edges of the countertop as he grips it harder, so thankful that he’d already kicked off his shoes and socks. He’s pretty sure that he couldn’t endure whatever torture Garak would make the removal of those. Julian notices then just how shiny Garak’s lips look too, glossy, wet, slightly parted with his own heavy and excited breaths.  There’s a subtle tongue poke, experimental taste and Julian nearly groans. 

_Can you taste it, Garak? Do you like the way the air around my prick tastes?_ He pictures that head moving, that mouth engulfing his prick- _God in heaven there’s no way I’m not going to die. Just have a stroke and die._ Garak takes his time in tugging trousers down over Julian’s hips, making a small “tsk” at the staining evident there. Julian’s trunks are in far worse shape, half the front soaked through, he’s sure of it. 

“Now what did I tell you about Kelas, my dear?” Garak asks with a put upon long suffering tone that’s completely belied by the husky drawl, the hand rubbing him through those sticky shorts. “Whatever am I going to do with you, Julian?” he asks not waiting for an answer to his other question.

“Anything,” Julian rushes out pushing his hips, rocking into Garak’s hand. “Anything you want... just please...” Garak uses the fabric of his shorts to wrap his shaft, slowly rubbing up and down, the friction of that fabric making Julian moan, making his legs tremble.

“Oh now don’t be foolish, I think that thinking with this,” another squeeze that makes Julian gasp, “is what got you into that mess with Kelas in the first place.”

“Yes, yes of course you’re right I… oh… oh…” Julian feels him squeeze harder. “What… whatever you want, Garak,” he agrees again too easily he’s sure but he’d likely agree to have his right hand sawed off if it meant the left could tangle in Garak’s wet hair, could rip that robe off, could squeeze that ass, could grope those thighs.

“You see, Julian,” Garak says in a low voice, just a little bit of a twist to that balled up fabric, another rough rub that Julian loves, “this is why I worry about you so. You’re just so easy to take advantage of.” 

Garak’s hand slides between the opening of his shorts, taking him in hand firmly stroking, the callous of Garak’s palm gliding up and down his slick shaft roughly. Shit, that feels good, that feels so good and Julian doesn’t know if Garak realizes just how wild that hard handling makes him or if he’s trying to prove some punishing point. Julian right doesn’t care panting “yes” with every tug. 

“Right, yes, you’re right of course, just...”

“Just?” Garak teases already hooking his index finger into the waistband of those trunks.

“I want to see you… I want to feel you…” His hands hurt as hard as he’s holding the counter’s edge, his eyes still wildly taking in every bit of Garak’s skin that’s revealed with those strokes, the motion of his arm seeming like it might cause that slippery silk to slide right off Garak’s shoulder. 

“And why should I allow that, Julian?” Garak asks, hand stopping, pressing into Julian’s leg while he also works those shorts down, deliberately not letting the elastic stretch enough, letting it catch on Julian’s cock, forcing it further down, forcing that pressure making Julian’s eyes flutter. _Ah shit you’re killing me, I swear you’re killing me, you’re gonna make me come if you keep that up._

“God you know… please just…”

“Ah, how forgetful of me, this is the part where I’m supposed to tell you that’s it’s so big that I’m having a bit of difficulty disrobing you. This is the part where I tell you that your cock is so massive that I doubt it will even comfortably feet more than halfway inside my passage is that-”

“Mmm…mmm oh oh shuttup god shutt _up_ ” Julian groans when Garak finally pulls those shorts off, letting both trousers and trunks drop, Julian’s slight movements shaking the garments to the floor so he can finally step out of them.

“Now there’s the spirited Julian I know and adore,” Garak coos at him and his hands close over Julian’s, half using those hands to pull himself back up. “You know I think I’ve grown to appreciate your stubbornness,” he says stroking the tops of Julian’s hands.

“ _My_ stubbornness, he says,” Julian mutters with just a second of aroused pique. It only lasts as long as it takes Garak to press against him full bodied, a serpentine slide and Julian can feel the oiled scales over his chest, can feel the texture of those knitted stockings to his legs. But more than that, as Garak steps outside his feet, he can feel his cock having been pushed poker straight up, trapped between the both of them. At the same time it pushes the fabric of Garak’s robe up, slipping beneath and he confirms, god does he ever confirm that Garak really isn’t wearing anything under it.

“Is that better now?” Garak isn’t everted- damn these old Cardassians have control of iron!- even as he undulates against him letting Julian’s cock get a good slide over the slightly spread slit of Garak’s _ajan._ Julian can feel that tissue just a little more hard than soft, wet, readying to evert, readying for Julian, feeling so slick over his shaft. He can feel Garak’s body tense when he rubs that sensitive _chuva-_ that dip above the _ajan_. It feels hot, just fucking perfect beneath the swell of Garak’s stomach, the luscious soft belly that Julian dreams of rubbing his prick over finally a reality, the scales both harder and then softer. Julian wants to bury his face in Garak’s stomach and worship it. He wants to put his mouth over it, lick that sensitive dip, the little ridges around until he can feel the tip of Garak’s cock forced to evert right under his chin- alright, he may have thought about it more than once even when he couldn’t quite bring the detail to the picture that he has now. Julian’s sure as those daydreams flood reality that if he holds the counter any harder he’s going to rip a chunk of granite off. 

Julian could cry, honest to god sob at how good that feels. Garak’s face, his cheek is rubbing Julian’s, the soft scales of his face massaging human skin, rubbing the nerves til they stand on end and every subsequent marking makes his toes curl on the floor. It’s too much and Julian’s face buries to Garak’s neck in response, the ridges pressed to his mouth. He wants to open and suck, and bite, and feel Garak’s knees buckle as he draw between teeth and bites hard. But Julian keeps his lips tightly pressed together though, obedient, wanting, bursting with desire trying to ignore how badly he wants to just push inside the few centimeters of give and feel just the tip of his prick engulfed in that wet heat of Garak’s slit while there’s still a bit of give. He tries to ignore how much he wants to grabs Garak, throw him down on the table, and fuck him until he everts, until he screams Julian’s name or even better, turn him around and bend him over and-

“One thing,” Garak says to Julian’s ear making his eyes shut for a moment as he sinks into hot breath and Garak’s voice. “If I allow you to touch one thing, what might it be?”

“Fuck, you sadistic lizard…” Julian pants and Garak laughs low in amusement.

“Such language, Julian! I don’t believe I’ve ever heard such coarse words spilling out so freely from you.” Well that makes two of them but Garak brings that fire out in him. That breath in his ear is followed by a graze of Garak’s teeth and Julian does wish Garak would bite him. Yes, a bite, a suck, another feel of the well of blood beneath skin as Kelas had done earlier. Julian thinks as best as he can, trying to consider what would give him the most tactile pleasure right now and it’s an awful tear between those thighs and that ass but if he can only touch one for now then it absolutely has to be-

“Your arse then,” Julian says, feeling his “posh” accent as his cousin would say, slipping a bit. “You have to know how bloody much I _dream_ about that perfect arse of yours.”

“Well, I might have some idea now,” Garak drawls as his hands finally move off of Julian’s.

That’s all the permission that Julian needs. There’s a faint tingle in his hands as he finally lets go of the counter, flexing fingers quickly, working the sensation back into them. He doesn’t want pins and needles to come between him and nirvana and he takes just a second before smirking against Garak’s neck taking a bit of his own revenge for such maddening teasing. Both hands give a good solid _smack_ and he feels Garak shiver, hears him hiss and thinks he recognizes a Cardassian epithet that he managed to startle out of him.

“I’m a what, now?” Julian teases with another playful smack fucking reveling in that sound, Garak silent save for a few ragged breaths. “Ya, that’s what I thought. You talk about taking a firm hand with me,” _smack_ “Maybe that’s what I ought to have done with you... such a lovely...” _smack_ “pain in my ass...” with one more for good measure in tandem with a deep delicious hum in his throat of appreciation as all that soft flesh so malleable beneath his hands, far too much for even his long fingers to begin to fully encompass. 

That robe covers nothing just as he’d suspected- barely half of it- and Julian squeezes, paws, and lets his hands roam every inch of that perfect fat ass. There’s a sheen of oil that makes for a bit of difficulty getting purchase, hands rolling over like like a well oiled globe. _Plush map of the world, it is._ Garak presses against him more as he does, Julian hearing hands slapping the counter, letting it be Garak’s turn to hold the damn thing while he tries and catch a breath. 

Julian feels the friction of those stockings, making the hair of his legs stand up, skin goosepimpled with that adrenal anticipation, wishing h could twine his legs clear around Garak’s and feel that exotic netting. He can feel more slick over his shaft whether from Garak’s swollen _ajan_ or his own needy tip starting to spill over, he doesn’t know. Garak slides over him, the robe’s knot working itself undone and with each squeeze, each rock of Garak’s solid body to his he can feel more skin, can feel the oiled scales making his own skin just as slippery. 

“God, you’ve no idea how much I love that,” Julian says, finding it novel that it’s Garak at a temporary loss for words as Julian kneads, spreads him, gropes, grips hard, and thanks whatever Cardassian deity brought such a perfect ass into existence as Julian’s fingers just _sink_ the fuck into it and he’s sure that he could let his cock slide between those round clenching cheeks for days if Garak would let him.

“Is that all you love?” Garak purrs, seeming to have half collected himself back, mouth around Julian’s each, nipping, teeth teasing the promise of a bit to the opposite side from where Kelas had marked him. 

“If I tell you more…”

“Yessss…” Garak hisses, fist banging the counter as Julian lets a finger slip between and tease just short of his hole.

“And you call me vain,” Julian laughs, not laughing long when Gark’s mouth sucks skin between teeth, making Julian’s head go back skyward. Oh that’s a good spot, yes, there feels-

“You are vain and you are insufferable,” Oh _he’s_ the insufferable one now? “-but I like hearing those superficial platitudes that I’m sure you tell all your lovers.” Julian gives Garak’s ass another smack, harder, hearing him hiss again in please, starting to feel the tip of Garak’s cock begin to brush his shaft. He swears on everything he holds dear that he’s going to spend an afternoon spanking those scales ‘til he loses the feeling in his hand and he sees if they turn pink or darker gray.

“You have my word,” Julian gasps “that I’ve never been with anyone who has either thighs or an arse as magnificent as yours.”

“Is that a fact?”

“God yes! Laugh at me, I don’t care but if you even knew half the things I’ve been dreaming of these last few minures... what I want to-” Garak bites him further down, sinks teeth into his trapezius at last, teeth sharp, sucking deliriously. Julian responds with another good _smack_ , feeling pliant flesh shake, hearing another hiss, and he can feel how wet it is between them, he can smell their scents mingling, that heat, that excitement and those scales are rubbing the skin around his glans, teasing it down, scales rolling over his sensitive cockhead nearly making him see stars, nearly wiping thought from his head. He pulls Garak against him in a needier grind, not knowing how either of them can possibly still stand.

“You want to what, Julian?”

Julian feels his feet start to slip on the floor. This is the part where he would make some excuse for such a silly desire, but he feels that inhibition float off, and he lets his hands wander down to the tops of Garak’s thighs, not quite brushing the stockings. 

“These are a work of art,” Julian declares, trying to catch his breath for the moment that Garak’s head draws back. Julian has never seen the Cardassian eye so close in this light, blue reptilian and rapidly twitching like a predator, hungry, dangerous and Julian has to swallow a breath down at the curve of Garak’s mouth at those words. _Devour me, god jut fucking devour me I swear I’ll let you._

“Go on, Julian,” Garak encourages, and Julian realizes that Garak’s arms have wrapped around him, over his shoulders, the slide of the silk robe sleeves a sensory delight in contrast Garak’s bare torso, stomach, oiled scales as Garak rolls against him like an unstoppable tide.

God it would look so suspicious for Julian to lift him off his feet and throw him down on the table but he wants to. He wants to let every bit of that lust go and fucking him against the wall, holding his weight with Garak’s thighs wrapped around him like a vice squeezing the breath out of him. He has no idea where half of these thoughts are even coming from, his fantasies towards Garak for so long not allowed in his mind to pass beyond a certain vague vanilla twist of coitus but right now, the heat, Garak’s perfect body half twined around his, is making him so uninhibited and reckless.

“I would love nothing more right now,” Julian says with another squeeze, another spread, “Than to slide my cock between those voluptuous thighs of yours over” _squeeze_ “and over” _squeeze_ “until I fucking come between them,” Julian says, seeing another excited dance of Garak’s eyes, another flick of tongue making him wish that they were kissing breathless. 

“A curious proposition,” Garaks says, his fingers kneading at Julian’s back, considering, and Julian slides two fingers into that juncture easily, {Shit, did Garak take a _bath_ in that oil?!) feeling soft scales, thick thighs wrapping around those digits tightly as he works them just _imagining_ for a second the feel of that squeeze on his prick and he nearly loses it. Fuck the thigh gap. A gap? Why on Earth would he want a gap when he could have all _that_ wrapped like intercrural heaven around his cock. Garak looks intrigued but not entirely convinced and Julian bites his lower lip, affecting a look at that he hopes is as attractive as he’s been told.

“Might I please, Garak?” he begs softly, working those fingers with a shudder. “Pleassse?” he adds with his own hiss and Garak’s eyes flash madly in response. 

“Now if I allow you this indulgence, it would have to come after a punishment for touching where you aren’t allowed,” Garak informs him with an absolutely evil smirk. Julian can feel his heart maddeningly beat as Garak eases his hands off and steps back. “Or am I overestimating your desire for this little fantasy of yours? Am I misreading your interest in playing a little _rough?_ ”

Julian doesn’t immediately answer. Not because he requires any real consideration (though he can dimly hear his friend Ezri scolding him in his head for rushing into any sort of play off the beaten path without even the most basic of discussions on the matter) but because he’s far too busy staring now that the robe has finally worked itself open and he has so many more inches of Naked Garak to greedily let his eyes feast on. Yes, that is naked with a capital “N” because he’s just _that_ glorious and Julian knows there’s an honest to god trail of drool down the side of his mouth as he tries to blink away a lusty haze -or cataracts, can one spontaneously develop cataracts from the sight of the most fantastic body on Earth?. 

Feeling Garak’s body was one thing but seeing broad shoulders half shrugged out of that robe, a fabulous expanse of light and gray scales covering Garak’s chest, that _chula_ dark with desire, the dark gray set off by that press of colored tint like a little blue firefly in the dark. Julian wishes like hell that he could paint this into some splendid picture and capture the Garak’s generous hips, the slight round of his stomach, like some Hebetian Ancient birthed life into some classic portrait, gave it scales and called it “Garak Anadyomene” because he’s like Aphrodite in the surf with a bared body that all should pay proper tribute to. He is _smoldering_ hot, half everted, those thighs seeming even more grand when completely bared. 

Julian bites back a whimper. He is never going to get enough. He is doomed, he is _fucked_ he is… god he’s the luckiest man to have ever lived and why he even thought for a second that something as plain, as pitifully average as Dukat could even _hope_ to fill that missing lusty void-

“What?” Julian asks having already forgotten Garak’s question. 

“Am I going to have to belt this back up to get your full attention, Julian?” Garak asks with a feint to draw one side back over.

“No! Oh no, not necessary, I’m sorry you just…” Julian trails off, seeing that Garak’s attention isn’t entirely on the conversation either. He nearly misses it, but Parmak’s voice in his head chirping bizarrely about “Elim’s Law” surges to the forefront of his brain for just a moment, and Julian realizes that he isn’t the only one whose eyes are obviously distracted.

Well of course he was aware intellectually that Garak found him attractive. Plenty of people do- just as there plenty who don’t Ezri likes to point out to keep him “grounded”. But as he takes in the look of raw hunger that Garak is shooting at his cock, he doesn’t think that anyone has ever quite looked at him like _that_ before. He wonders if it would completely ruin the atmosphere if her were to take his prick in hand and say something salacious. 

“Elim’s Law?” Julian asks with a winsome little smile and Garak absently nods.

“Kelas has a Notherner’s sense of humor,” Garak answers another flick of his tongue and Julian has no idea what that’s supposed to mean but decides that he really doesn’t need the answer at this exact moment. He imagines that tongue flicking over the head of his cock and he can see the darkened ridges of Garak’s face most telling of all. “Julian, please tell me that boorish Nokaran hasn’t has his mouth on that beautiful organ before I’ve so much had the opportunity to lay eyes on such an exquisite piece.” Julian shakes his head, not sure that he’s ever quite seen _that_ look on Garak’s face before and somewhat in awe of such effusive praise fo his prick.

Julian wouldn’t exactly say that he’s _proud_ of a part of his anatomy that he’s had little direct effort in shaping. He’s always found such things to be superficial and silly though Miles had grumbled on more than one occasion that of course a fella who was hiding something like _that_ monster could afford to have that sort of blasé attitude. Still, Julian would be lying if he said that Garak’s reaction to all of it on display (nine inches and alright so perhaps he’d measured it once or twice…) wasn’t immensely gratifying.

“I think this is the part where you’re supposed to tell me that it’s so massive that you doubt it will even comfortably fit more than halfway inside that perfect arse of yours,” Julian supplies breathlessly. He meant to tease him but catching site of Garak’s prick, the tip unconsciously everting is such a fucking turn on that he has no idea why they two of them are still standing at arm’s length when-

When Garak shrugs that robe the rest of the way of leaving nothing but the accent of those fishnets hugging his thighs and damn isn’t _that_ an absolutely marvelous picture? 

“Oh it will fit, my dear” Garak promises, flick, a tilt of his head to the side which Julian finds sexy as hell right now. The robe is quickly folded and draped over a different chair than that shirt and Garak drops to his knees on top of Julian’s trousers before Julian can say anything further.

“Garak, what are you- Ah!” Julian feels the breath leave him, of course the question a stupid once since it was painfully obvious what Garak was doing, except Julian instead feels his eyes roll back into his head once more, this time with the sting of that slap. Alright so that was what Garak meant by punishment. Except… _Oh… oh shit shit… god…_ Julian keens as Garak does it again, measured, carefully, a good swap and nearly buckles his knees, and he realizes as Garak follows up with a third that if anything he’s only gotten harder, the mad endorphin rush following that sting making him cry out again ecstatically.

He loves this, lord he doesn’t know when he turned from happy vanilla Julian into whatever this is that answers Garak’s demand that he count with nearly a sing of “five!” He’s going to owe Ezri five hundred fucking dollars and he doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to lose a bet in his life.

“I think seven should suffice for you being so naughty,” Garak says cradling Julian’s shaft with his left hand and giving another slap with his right. 

“Yes! Six! Six, fuck!” Julian half sobs, hands covering his face, sliding up, back through his sweat damp hair, fingers curling into his neck as his cock feel so heavy and swollen and so close to coming he thinks he might release all over Garak’s face when they reach seven. Garak strokes him lovingly, carefully, Julian shaking with that anticipation, eyes pinpricking when he feels the last smack his cock so sensitive he can hardly stand it. “Seven! S-seven please… please god let me… I need to… I need you…”

His left hand kneads at the back of his neck, digging nails in hard, thighs rubbing together as useless as that motion is. Garak is still petting his prick, that light touch maddening and Julian swallows, bites the meat of his right hand as Garak’s pressure increases swearing to god he’s going to fall.

“Look at me, Julian,” Garak orders and Julian lets his head drop, opening his eyes. Garak comes back into focus on the ground, on his knees, legs spread, that position making his thighs look even bigger, even more perfect and right between those spread legs is his _prUt,_ his _cock_ fully everted, thick, gray, thin ridges ribboned around that beautiful shaft, slick, practically dripping and Julian has a serious crisis of faith as his eyes vacillate wildly between Garak’s thighs and his cock wishing he could split himself in two so he could both fuck and be fucked in tandem by that thick solid body. “What do you want, Julian?”

“You,” is the immediate answer. Garak any way that he can get his hands on him right now is the answer. God, decisions... Julian releases his hand, feeling the pulse of blood throbbing where that pressure is released and he has half a mad mind to just drop down and pound him right there on the floor. _You’ll have time, Julian. You’ll have tonight, tomorrow, whenever you want, right? You can have this any time you want and you know it now._ _Not that you couldn’t have done something before… like last week but there were reasons… or something… Fuck, they couldn’t have been that important…_ Garak seems to read that indecision and he lets Julian’s cock drop from his grip. Drop is exactly what it does; it really is too heavy to stand straight up, hanging thick and engorged between his legs and Julian can’t help but look at Garak’s glistening lips again pink tongue poking out thoughtfully. Alright, that’s a third possibility and shit he doesn’t know.

Julian wets his own lips in a heated mirror and has a crazy urge to just yank Garak back to his feet by that mussed damp hair. Kelas did list that off on the things Garak enjoys… Alright, so perhaps Julian has a touch of sadist in him as well. He can still see the rivulets of water occasionally trickle to Garak’s shoulders and Julian absolutely swears to himself that before the end of the week he has to fuck Garak in the shower. _Add it to the list…_ “I… I mean…” He looks at those thighs again, the muscles flexing beneath that soft scaly layer, those fishnets still perfectly in place. Yeah, it’s a total no brainer. “I mean I’d like you to stand up,” Julian says, seeing Garak rise in response. “And… and please tell me I can touch you freely now,” Julian looks at his lips as he makes that entreaty, Garak giving another tip of his head.

“Whatever you like, my dear,” Garak answers him and hell that is _all_ the permission that Julian needs.

He pulls Garak close by the waist, feeling that soft belly pressed to his and his hands are so right back on that ass, grinding their bodies back together like a jigsaw puzzle, open mouthed kisses at first, too frantic to even be bothered with longer contact than just messy swipes of tongues going at each other. 

“You’re welcome... well... wel... com...” he feels rather than hears garak pant to his mouth and realized that it’s only in answer to his own breathless litany of “thank you.” Garak’s body is so solid, so _thick_ that Julian has little reservation about pulling him close, crushing them together, the two staggering around an awkward shuffle of feet, Julian’s hips pressing, rocking, half lifting Garak thoughtlessly as he turns him to the counter. 

He really should be more careful about improbable displays of strength like that but if anything, Garak seems to find that strength exciting and Julian has a mad brilliant flash of sitting on one of the kitchen chairs just _lifting_ Garak up and down on his cock. He could do it, fuck he could do it and maybe Garak wouldn’t ask too many questions but oh, Garak is kneading at Julian’s shoulders, fingers curling into Julian’s back with a sound that’s half hiss, half groan that makes him ache with lust right down to his toes. He’ll come back to that one. Once they’ve talked and maybe after he assures Garak that he isn’t a freak but just a hard luck case -emphasis on hard- who really just wants to spend the rest of his life locked in some form of coitus with a gorgeous Cardsassian.

“Julian,” Garak groans his name and Julian doesn’t care if it makes him feel like a giant cricket, he lets their legs tangle, and savors the feel of those stroking rubbing his thighs, his calves, loving the way they feel against his skin.

“Yes… fuck yes… you’ve no idea what I…” Julian doesn’t know half the stream of babble leaving his mouth, letting the finger of his left hand tangle in Garak’s dark hair, pulling, Garak hissing and biting at his lips, as he acquiesces so fluidly. _Thank you, Kelas!_ There’s a bold motion of Garak’s right leg forward and Julian grabs it eagerly, hitching that leg up around his waist thinking that Parmak isn’t the only flexible Cardassian in Manhattan. Julian kisses him deeper, harder, sure their teeth have to be half banging each time as the try and meld mouths into a lusty bellows, in, out, Julian rutting against him like a savage, hand groping and pawing at Garak’s smooth thigh loving the squeeze to his waist in return. _Careful, god careful don’t lift him, no matter how badly you want to don’t, don’t._

“Julian,” Garak pants his name again, such a lovely sound, that. Garak is pushing up to meet his every thrust, that slick slide making him nearly see white, the room blurring drunkenly whenever he opens his eyes. “If you have… an inclination… to do anything else… I suggest… that you do it… before I...” he rushes out, hiss, twist, so pliant and pliable but right, oh that’s right, Julian really just _needs_ to come so badly and it couldn’t possibly be so terrible to do that right? No… no not now, not yet.

“Yes… right…” He reluctantly lets go of Garak’s leg giving a last hard squeeze, letting his hand linger over Garak’s flank wanting nothing more than to let his hands stay but reminding himself that’s hardly practical. “Turn around… yes… just like that…” a twist in Julian’s arms, Garak also seeming reluctant to move. But he does, they do, Julian forcing himself to reposition when he feels his prick slide from Garak’s hip over his ass and he can’t help the whine that escapes him when he’s right where he wants to be. 

Julian can feel his shaft sliding up and down and god does he ever want to spread that ass and drive in deep as Garak can stand. 

“You’ve no idea how bloody perfect you look like that,” Julian says in a breathless praise. “Mmm… yes, bend over the counter Garak. Good, you’re such a natural at that, but keep your legs together. That comes later, I promise,” He can’t resist another rough squeeze of Garak’s ass those scales leaving a slight indent, a little darker where Julian smacked them and he swears one day he’s going to spend _hours_ just worshipping that beauty. 

“Far be it for me to intrude on your fantasy, Julian, but it’s been my experience that this generally works better when one’s legs are parted.”

Julian grins wickedly in response, and recalls that Parmak had said that depending on the mood Garak like it particularly rough. 

“Oh don’t worry, Garak, I know exactly what I’m doing,” he promises. Well, if Garak’s in a mood to smack his prick around, Julian thinks that counts as “the mood” Parmak was referring to. Julian’s cock still tingles, still feels particularly sensitive, heated, an extra hot pulse still throbbing there ready and willing. Julian just glides his hand up Garak’s oiled back, hearing Garak purr at the slide of Julian’s palm up the sensitive scales to his spine. He can see the tilt of Garak’s head, see those hands flex on the edge of the counter where Julian’s had earlier. Julian gives the back of his neck a rough squeeze, watching Garak half boneless a moment. 

“If you say so,” he agrees and Julian loves seeing how easily Garak gives up that control with a sound that’s half hiss, half purr, pushing back again him. Julian fists his hair hard in answer and hears the answering hiss, seeing Garak arch his back nicely.

“Shall I tell you what I’m going to do then, Garak? Or shall I leave you to guess?” Julian grips harder, and he how dark the ridges of Garak’s face have turned, he can see the flick of those slit pupils, clouded like he’s near a molt.

“Whatever you desire, my dear.”

“What I desire,” Julian begins with a quick wetting of his fingers, “is to feel these incredible thighs of yours squeezing my prick ‘til I’m about to come.” He slips two fingers between that juncture of thighs, long fingers going deep enough that he can feel them poke out the other side, feeling the damp of moisture, the slick of his _ajan_ just starting to trickle down. Julian teases him slowly, groaning at just how tight that little space truly is. He feels Garak’s thighs squeeze in response.

“Ah, and that… you would enjoy such a thing… ah… a guls Julian…” Julian spits in his palm, fisting his cock, getting it good and wet, his prick aiding him in that effort, the tip spilling out more precome in response to that stimulation. He doesn’t answer with words, instead pulling Garak’s head back, seeing his back bow just a bit more. Julian takes just a moment to line up, pushing slowly between those thighs, _god in heaven_ do they ever clench around him.

“Oh… oh mercy that’s so…” Julian thrusts slowly, enjoying that first indulgent glide, hearing a hiss from Garak in turn when he presses flush to that soft ass, breathing hard trying to calm himself. “Perfect,” Julian breathes, leaning in so that he can speak properly to the auditory ridges of Garak’s ear. 

His left hand falls to Garak’s hip as he thrusts shallow, breath hitching, that hand not staying there long before it slips to Garak’s thigh, rubbing the top. The tip of his prick his just hitting the bottom of Garak’s _ajan_ and Julian feels a twist of hips, Garak rocking back and forth with those thrusts in time, half hiss, half low growl. Julian lets his hand stroke Garak’s left thigh, scales rippling as he fans his fingers out, groping as much as he possibly can, thrust, push, the tight juncture of those thighs euphoric on his cock, the soft little scales on the insides giving such delicious subtle friction. Julian doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep from spilling if it goes on any longer and he has to take a moment to stop and breathe because well somehow he forgot to to that as well. 

“S-see…” Julian is halfway to hissing himself as that hand leaves Garak’s thigh to complete its journey to his cock, just letting his palm press over Garak’s impressive girth. Garak’s hips move more insistently, pressing forward into that pressure. “Even I… have a good idea… here and there…” And that’s followed by another tug to Garak’s hair.

“Point... conceded,” is growled in agreement. 

Julian presses a soft kiss to the back of Garak’s neck as he lets go, deciding that his right hand would be much better served in wrapping around Garak’s torso, pulling him close while his hips keep moving slow and languidly. He takes the time to savor that slick drag of intercrural scales tugging on his prick, on his foreskin, making him grope at Garak’s chest with each of those dreamy pulls. Julian’s long arms easily encircle him, and he worries a moment when his mindless pleasure makes him move Garak a bit too easily but fuck it, he doesn’t care. He likes feeling Garak close, he likes fastening his mouth to Garak’s neck ridges, running teeth over roughly, seeing Garak’s head go back ecstatically without him needing to force the motion. He hears the soft panted “yes yes” spill from Garak’s parted lips. Julian loves the tickle of Garak’s wet hair to his face and he keeps fucking between those thick thighs, his legs starting to shake from just how fucking good it feels and he feels pressure building, swollen, wanting and it would just be so easy to let himself come.

“Yes…” Garak swallows and Julian can feel another press of legs together, rewarding it with a good solid stroke of Garak’s length, the ridges sliding over his palm almost making it tingle and Julian shuts his eyes, drowning in Garak’s scent, the scale oil, the musky haze of the room, and Garak’s big beautiful body in front of his. He can hear Garak speaking to him, laying a hand over Julian’s, urging him to squeeze harder. “Yess… I can see how you like that, Julian. I... it’s… a strange feeling but…it’s a welcome preview… do you like feeling my thighs wrapping your cock?” _oh god…_ “Do you like when I squeeze you like that?” Punctuating with another squeeze of strong muscles that makes him bite his lip and rub his forehead against Garak’s shoulder whimpering. He tries not to hug Garak too tightly, fingers curling into his chest, clutching at his left pec, feeling a hard nipple, blindly groping as Garak continues whispering to him.

“Do you like how tight that feels?... How soft?... Do you imagine now… how it might feel to let your hips move back… just a bit… just let that lovely human organ of yours slide deep into him?” _Yes… shit... fuck yes…_ Julian stops, half stopping at that picture, Garak’s other hand finally accounted for in clutching at his hip, holding here there, those muscles squeeze, making such a dizzying pressure that he doesn’t know if he can-

“Garak… God... Garak… I…”

“Do you want to… end the preliminaries and… and... finally…” _Finally? Oh say it please… please…_

“Please…” that entreaty capped with a squeeze of Garak’s pec, just a bit of soft flesh over strong muscle and Julian kneads at it hearing a soft moan in answer. He pinches at the scales around Garak’s nipples earning another hiss, a soft “tssss” that’s almost a warning. 

“Fuck me…” he hears, and Julian twists, feeling a fission traveling up Garak’s entire body at that, ass pressing back to his groin again and a soft “ah…. Ha…” escapes him before he lets Garak go knowing that if he doesn’t he’s going to-

“The box,” Garak says breathily and Julian has a blink a few times to understand him.

“What?” he asks confused.

“In the pantry. The cereal box with the-”

“The cereal box?” Julian asks, that odd comment at least enough of a splash of cold water as the two of them separate, Garak looking at him like he’s an idiot.

“Of course, I can’t believe that you’d forget, Julian.”

“Forget what? What are you-”

“I’m quite fond of you my dear, but nonetheless I _am_ going to have to insist on safe sex practices.” Julian is sure that he’s entered the twilight zone as Garak turns to indicate the pantry door a few cabinets down.

“Right of course, but what does that have to do with… cereal?”

Julian watches Garak sigh and shake his head before pushing past him.

“If you’re talking about condoms, I’ve got some rubbers in my room but I really don’t think we need to stop just so you can have a… snack?” Julian doesn’t know if his face looks as stupid as it feels right now, but he feels incredible odd watching Garak open the pantry door, reach inside, and pull out a box of “Kashi”. “Now with tastier twigs” it advertises with an old woman and a child staring at him with haunting smiles. He’s about to cover himself as irrational as that is but that’s when he sees Garak reach inside the box and pull out an honest to god pack of condoms and a packet of lube. Alright, Julian thought that he’d seen everything having lived with Garak the last two years but this is just ridiculous.

“Wait you…” he blinks. “You put _condoms in the cereal_?!” Garak snorts.

“Obviously there’s no cereal in the box, Julian. I might also add if you’ve ever had the misfortune to ingest this chaff masquerading as a breakfast food you wouldn’t have the audacity to call it cereal either.”

Julian is sure that this conversation has gotten away from him somewhere along the line but… but… He doesn’t even know what, watching as Garak peers inside as if there’s something else he’s looking for, a deep frown on his face.

“I’m afraid this one doesn’t have the Magnums.”

“Where’d you put that one? In the microwave popcorn box?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we actually _eat_ the popcorn.”

“What else is in there?” Julian asks suspiciously, stalking over and snatching the box out of Garak’s hands. He doesn’t quite notice Garak look at him suspiciously. He doesn’t realize how difficult a feat it was he just pulled off as he looks down, the kitchen light illuminating not just condoms and lube (thankfully within date) but also a flashlight, a key to something he thinks might be handcuffs, two pack of Big Red, and a Taser. Julian just _stares_ at Garak and thinks he half remembers exactly why it was he wasn’t trying to rush into anything.

“You know I’m honestly afraid to ask,” Julian comments as he hands the box back to Garak.

“They say that every home should have an emergency preparedness kit handy,” Garak replies defensively as he tosses a packet of unscented lube to Julian.

“What the bloody hell sort of emergency are you preparing for?!” Garak stuffs the box back into the pantry with a huff and alright, so perhaps Julian catches just a bit of booty jiggle there and remembers exactly _why_ it was that Garak was going into the pantry into the first place. 

“I’m not sure that I like your tone,” Garak snips at him rummaging for apparently the box that has the Magnums in it. Julian doesn’t dare look to see what it is. “By all means, if you’re having second thoughts Julian, don’t let me pressure you into anything untoward, though I didn’t notice any objection a moment ago... Hmm you’re lucky, there’s still a few left in here though I don’t think to check the stock as regularly,” he muses. “I may have to change that….” _Right. Condoms, lube, that ass, those thighs, around your waist… shut the hell up Julian!_  

“Yes, I mean no! I mean ah… oh god who cares… I don’t care, I swear I don’t give a toss, keep handcuffs in the biscuit tin for all I care just…” 

Julian refocuses on that expanse of scaly flesh like some lush serpentine heaven all for him right now. Julian ignores the din of Garak remarking what sort of deviant would put handcuffs in a tin of biscuits as he kneels, shuffling on the on the hard floor until he’s looking up, hands on those stockinged thighs. 

“I want you,” Julian promises with a kiss to Garak’s hip. “Badly,” his mouth moves across the swell of Garak’s stomach, feeling Garak’s prick rubbing the side of face. “Very badly,” he gives a soft mouthing feeling the give of that darling tummy beneath his lips. “So badly…” he rushes out, hands practically shaking as they squeeze the backs of Garak’s thighs. “Please, may I fuck you?” he asks with his best manners, looking up at Garak with his most pleading face. 

He can see Garak breathing heavily, can see the excitement and lord, Ezri was right, he’s far more off the vanilla custard road than he ever thought because he’s already imagining the fun they might have later with him being Garak’s willing slave like this. 

“Please?” he asks again, hands snaking to Garak’s ass, as he clings, as he kisses again and Garak gives a put upon sigh while Julian returns to placing scratching lightly as the netting of the fishnets.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if you rip those,” Garak says with a flick of tongue and a dark grin spreading his face. Julian smiles back in answers giving an insolent little tug. 

“Promises, promises.” 

“I almost think you want me to have to discipline you, Julian. But I don’t think that’s what you want right now.” Garak strokes the side of Julian’s face, as he tears the wrapper of the condom in his free hand open with his teeth and lets the packet of lube carelessly drop to the floor. 

“No, but later...” Julian trails off, his eyes darting to the kitchen counter and then to the table. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to eat there again without being assailed with all sorts of lurid memories, but he can let future Julian worry about that. Julian allows himself a swipe of his tongue to Garak’s cock, up the side of that hard, wet shaft, alright and maybe another tease around the base, and maybe that’s followed with a little trip of his tongue to Garak’s _chuva_ while he says that he just needs a moment to think about it all the while continuing to run hands up and down the backs of Garak’s thighs. 

“Julian…” Garak warns when Julian lets his mouth trail little sucks up the shaft, teeth brushing ridges.

“Table,” Julian breathes to Garak’s sensitive _prUt_ before grabbing the packet and standing back up quickly. Whatever momentary flag that his erection had while Garak rifled for supplies is back like it never left, heavy, hard, smacking his leg.

Garak raises an eye ridge, at that answer.

“My, aren’t we feeling adventurous,” he says though Julian can see that’s followed with a bit of an uncertain look to the surface; As far as Julian’s concerned as much money as Garak paid for the thing if it can’t support one voluptuous Cardassian then it wasn’t worth the obscene price tag to begin with. He almost has half a mind to suggest they take it back if it breaks. 

“Trust me,” Julian says, holding a finger to Garak’s pursed lips to staunch the usual rejoinder to such a “ludicrous statement”. Julian moves it and then replaces his finger with his mouth in a brief brush that quickly turns to a searing kiss. Garak nips at his tongue, Julian’s hand on his hip rubbing sensitive scales. “‘m going to... give it... you you so... so good....” Julian manages between breaths for air, somehow managing to blindly open said packet and work a generous amount to his fingers with Garak pressed against him and his hands behind Garak’s back.

He thinks that he might have squeezed a bit to the floor on accident but Julian doesn’t look and he sure as _hell_ doesn’t allow Garak to look and start up about any spills on the priceless tile. It’ll wipe up and right now there’s no force between Heaven and Earth that’s going to keep him from sliding his fingers into Garak’s waiting heat. Julian keeps kissing him to distraction, keeps sucking at Garak’s lower lip, exchanging playful bites which soon start turning more frantic. Julian spreads him best as he can with one hand- though two might not even suffice, and god that’s what he fucking _loves_ about Garak’s ass!- and slowly pushes in with two fingers of the other, index then middle feeling tightness grip him, ease, breach, Garak’s body so easily adjusting that he wonders just how much, how fast, how hard he can shove into him. Maybe it’s some psychic thing, maybe that’s the purpose of the Cardassian _chufa_ because Julian swears when their foreheads pres together in a series of deep breath catching pants that Garak reads his thoughts.

“Julian… while I appreciate your… consssideration… I assssure you… it’s not…not necessssary…” _Oh... oh is he really saying that-_ “All of it… Guls, give me all of it it…” _Sir, yes sir!_ He may have said yes sir out loud. Ask him if he cares. Spoiler alert: he doesn’t. 

“Yes… yes…” he promises, slowly withdraw his fingers, loving that little suck to them before they’re fully out. Julian can feel Garak writhing against him and between the both of them right now he can’t say who’s the cause of more of that wetness between them. The ridges of Garak’s _prUt_ are rubbing his shaft, every needy grind teasing foreskin back, the sensitive tip of his prick feeling like it’s about to fucking melt he’s so ready for it. “You want it that badly?” Julian gasps knowing damn well that they both do. He wouldn’t be surprised if Garak deemed the question too obvious to answer but he hears a “yesss” almost angrily hissed while Julian kisses him again, cupping that ass- he’s never getting enough of that ass ever- rubbing, mimicking Garak’s sinuous roll of hips. “Right in? Hard? Deep? Can you really take all of it, Garak?” 

“Don’t think I’m above shoving you onto a chair and showing you myself,” Garak growls and _that_ mental imagine is one that he’s absolutely going to explore at a later date; more than once, definitely more than once. But for now, Julian wants to test that determination, wants to see just how much he can take, wants to fuck him ‘til he screams and it’s that raw need which pushes any sense of preservation for his little secret out of his head. 

“Don’t say you didn’t ask for it,” Julian says, giving a grand sweep of the napkin holder and salt and pepper shakers tumbling to the floor. Garak winces a bit at that and Julian has a crazy flash of that IKEA commercial with the broken cow creamer and violently shoves that stupid image out of his head. _Yes I felt bad for the creamer but I get it now alright, you win, IKEA. It’s just a stupid little creamer and fucking is far more urgent right now._ He lifts Garak clear off his feet with little effort, setting him down, kiss, bite, another rough suck to those neck ridges, Garak’s hands working quickly between them with an expertise in blind gyrating condom application that really ought to earn him some sort of award on Gay Twitter.

Julian bites his lip, panting heavy as Garak teases it down more careful than is necessary he’s sure. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I found the Magnums, my dear,” Garak purrs, stroking him, Garak’s hand slick from something as it works. “I’m not sure the others would have fir such a big beautiful specimen such as this.” Julian groans at that, leaning against Garak harder, gasping, “Garak” pitiably. “Oh I promise you I’m not putting you on, Julian. But do you know how to properly use it? I wonder…” He knows Garak is deliberately baiting him but fuck if that challenge doesn’t inflame him further. 

“Watch and see,” Julian promises, Garak not needing any further prompting to lay back on the hard wooden surface. Alright, so maybe now it’s Julian’s turn to drag the moment out longer than necessary but Garak makes such a picture laid back, legs drawn up, spread, scales shimmering from the glinting kitchen light. There’s a way those thick thighs are spread, dressed so prettily in those fishnets that he wants to retain in memory and he certainly hopes they’re not-

“Much as I’m a fan of metaphor, Julian, the phrase fucking with the eyes has little practical application and loathe as I am to admit it, there’s a certain age at which holding one’s legs so impractically back- Tss….” Julian interrupts Garak’s breath diatribe with exactly what he’s asked for. His eyes glued to Garak’s tight hole just a touch slick at the rim with that lube is a target, a homing point, and he carefully lines up, starting a push in that makes Garak’s head fall back to the table. Thankfully Julian doesn’t hear any panful bang of it and right when he feels the wide head of his cock pass that ring, he takes hold of Garak’s thighs, holding them back, sliding in in further shit… god... in so good, hearing Garak gasping, hearing a loud slap of hands to the wooden surface that it makes him worry it might be too much when he’s only in two thirds.

“Don’t… stop…” Garak demands, another hard bang of his first to accent that demand and Julian cannot imagine what a sweet torture it must be- he certainly hopes that Garak can be persuaded to return the favor in the future- but he keeps going, feeling Garak’s body clutching at him, feeling thighs shake, feeling heat god heat, Garak heaving “yesss… yesss…” until Julian can finally feel himself press fully seated to Garak’s ass. Fuck, _fuck_ he wants to start pounding into him so badly that he… he feels Garak gripping his wrist hard, a wild look up to him as he grits out that Julian better start moving. _Pushy bottom, alright_ , Julian thinks but has little room for much else as he eases out, back in, a hard slam this time and sees Garak’s hard half swallowed breath out intermingled with another “yessss yesss...” hearing Garak start whisper hissing in Cardassian as Julian starts driving into him harder.

Julian lets up a bit on Garak’s thighs, not thinking he has much stamina for the long haul as hot as Garak is, as fucking _incredible_ as he looks, hands half rubbing over his own neck ridges, his face, fingers digging into scales leaving little scraping lines, those ridges around his eyes impossibly dark. Julian doesn’t know many Cardassian epithets but he’s certain that he’s learned several dozen more in the last few minutes, snapping his hips, taking Garak’s ankles to fuck harder, rubbing the side of his face to Garak’s calf, luxuriating in the texture of the hosiery, speed decreasing but not the depth, not for a moment, short needy pushes, drilling into Garak as deep as he can stand, that plush ass pushing back against him as he moves, making his eyes roll ‘round the fucking world in hit head marvelously, the light of the kitchen bulb half blinding him. Either the light of the short out blissful sex swirl of Garak’s passage spasming and clutching his cock.

Julian knows the white is only the light, or at least he’s sure and god Garak’s going to kill him for the runs in the stockings but Julian can’t help but be rough with his short nails running up Garak’s calves, mouth switching between tightly pressed lips and gasps forced out from the depths of his esophagus, so balls fucking deep into Garak that he feels half drunk. He can see spots when his head dips forward and he looks back down seeing Garak looking right back at him, the light fortunately for him not behind Julian but above his own head and there’s a cross of shadows, eyes just fucking burning into him as he strokes himself, as his fist moves faster. 

To Julian’s sensitive hears the kitchen is a symphony of the faint _snick_ of Garak’s fist rapidly pumping his cock and the loud _slap_ of Julian’s pelvis hitting Garak’s ass as he speeds up, feeling his cock a fucking lightning rod of heat, everything winding tighter, balls drawing almost painfully and Julian realizes then that it’s not Garak who’s screaming “god fuck god” but him and the closer he gets the harder, the more frantically he surges forward until he has to hold Garak’s thighs, pull them back together from the force of his mad thrusts and the slick tabletop. He’s sure he lifts Garak’s ass off the table at that point, not meaning to, really not, but needing to pull their bodies as close together, as deep and desperately two beings can possibly be locked. He sees Garak’s eyes flick, get wide, before shutting, before his head goes back, that collarbone divot a brilliant blue- and oh how Julian loves that shimmering blue powder highlighting it- in contrast to the ark flushes ridges around.

Julian feels that tightening vice, squeezing the base especially when Garak’s chest heaves, that thick _prUt_ splashing come over his stomach, between his pecs, hitting his _chula_ and god does Julian ever want to lick that release off with his tongue. _Oh… yes… shit I want to lick it off you Garak right… right… oh… ah… ah…_ That squeeze releases just enough to let that pressure wall painfully building to finally spill forth, Julian coming, fingers digging into Garak’s thighs as his throat tightens to an elongated _nnngh_ making him half anoxic as he shoots, swearing later that he’s getting his tests all in order tomorrow because he wants to badly to come inside Garak’s body next time. Oh but this is hardly lacking, Julian breathing out hard, push, push, before finally letting go of Garak, thankful for his long torso as he leans forward, lapping greedily at that salty damp trail, tasting the faint sweet of the oil mingling with Garak’s come, hearing the hiss as Julian’s body traps his steadily withdrawing _prUt_. 

Julian gives one last swipe, feeling his cock finally going half soft, amazed as how hard he just came after that mess in the car. He pulls out slowly with a groan, reluctant to move, but not wanting to leave Garak in the uncomfortable table position longer than necessary.

“God,” he breathes with a rapid blink of his eyes, half forgetting where he is as he staggers back, helping Garak sit back up. He licks his lips, dry, sticky in their own right just as Garak reaches up and pulls him back down for a long kiss, tongue everywhere in Julian’s mouth, sharing that bit of lingering seed. “Fuck,” Julian breathes out again a bit wildly when Garak finally lets him go and half uses him as a support while he slips back onto the floor. He looks almost half dazed himself, arms still around Julian, breathing against his neck hard. 

“I suppose it would be in poor taste to point out that we could have been doing this a week ago if someone wasn’t so stubborn.”

Julian can feel a twitch just then, an irritated spasm of his face at that remark, a million reasons why they damn well didn’t do this a week ago coming back to him quickly. But then he just sighs, and supposes that they can hash all that out some other time when Julian isn’t thirsty from the heat and Garak and the apartment isn’t so miserably hot all of a sudden that he just wants to lay down and die. Yes, all that can definitely wait. Garak also might be mumbling some further commentary about Julian’s ability to actually swear being a novel surprise. _Right, next thing you know you’ll be like Alastair and that lot going on about my speaking too “posh” for regular folk. Heaven forbid a man was raised with a little care..._

“Garak,” Julian interrupts his own thoughts and Garak’s post coital babble train. He’s sure Garak is expecting some quip leading to another argument. Ah, but instead of giving in to that temptation, Julian gives in to a different one instead. Instead he simply reaches down and gives Garak’s ass a good hard pinch followed up with a satisfying _smack_ enjoying the yelp of surprise and subsequent shiver. Oh he could definitely get used to this. “Shuttup.”

* * *

 

**_Please tell me I’m finally allowed in your apartment in the summertime again._ ** Garak hears the chime of the text and checks it discreetly. He’s certain that his hair is going to be impossible to untangle and he’s definitely going to take a long soak in the tub of the master bath. That is if he ever decides to move off the rug… which he very well may never do. Admittedly, his knees are a bit raw and he thinks he may have pulled something while Julian was screwing him on the living room throw rug during round two... three? so that may also be part of the reason that he doesn’t move. Julian was nice enough to fetch his phone from where he left it in the bathroom, nosily reading Parmak’s last few messages declaring that the two of them together are an absolute menace and should be barred from proper society. 

Garak doesn’t know when he ever gave the impression that he and Kelas were ever part of proper society, but he had taken the phone gratefully, half falling back on his face while Julian declared that he needed a shower to get a “thousand years of lizard pheromones off him.” Garak cheerfully suggested taking a sick day. Julian gave him a glare that would usually prove effective if there wasn’t that lusty heat behind it. Yes, Garak could definitely get used to seeing _that_ look. He may even have to enlist Parmak’s help in finding more outfits to showcase his more prominent assets. Julian had begged him to put the robe back on for that heavenly round of floor fucking and Garak happily obliged. It may be ruined. He may for once not actually care about a ruined garment; yes, stop the presses for that one.

**_Yes, and I believe I owe you an apology._** He really does. Kelas has been an absolute gift to him and Garak is realizing that he may have admittedly been- as Jadzia would say- a “Grade A megabitch” about the whole Julian thing but well… alright so perhaps he’s been a touch insecure. One doesn’t spend two decades living with Kelas Parmak without developing a few self conscious neuroses. At least that’s what Damar had said the last time they’d run into each other. Garak can’t believe Damar had actually stayed married that harpyas long as he had, but he’s a _traditionalist_ and in spite of Garak’s reminding him that on Earth marriages are like Kleenex he seemingly had little desire to do anything about his misery. Well fortunately, Damar’s problems aren’t his (barring Weyoun, may he rot in the deepest pits of hell) so Garak doesn’t give it another thought. He looks at Parmak’s reply and smiles.

**_I’m happy for you. I truly am. Julian is an absolutely lovely boy._ **

**_You like him_ **

There’s a moment of silence and Garak sighs, looking down the hall still hearing the shower faintly running.

**_Julian is a lovely boy_** comes through a second time and Garak stares at his phone long and hard. Kelas has been a good friend to him, has been his dearest friend, _family_ even if Garak’s being completely honest. And unlike Garak he’s almost never asked for anything for himself either. Of course Garak is aware of an interest- he wouldn’t have threatened him otherwise when Julian first moved in. Perhaps a touch of that might be out of insecurity (perhaps a lot of thing might be out of insecurity but he’s too sober to think too hard on that now) and he’s just possibly maybe starting to realize that it’s an insecurity with no basis in reality… Not if his happily used body is any indication. 

Garak looks back at the phone screen and listens best as Cardassian hearing will allow for such things for the shower. This is really a conversation better conducted in his room but he’s not risking changing his mind from here to there. He has a suspicion that Julian’s hearing is abnormally sharp which is another little oddity about his dear Doctor Bashir that may require further research. Still, the shower should drown out any noise and he has every intention on being quick about it. Garak presses to dial and rolls on his side uncomfortably as it rings. Thankfully, Kelas answers quickly, not leaving him to wait.

_“Elim?”_ He asks sounding concerned, and again, Garak thinks that Kelas is a far better friend than he is. _“Is everything alright?”_ He takes a deep breath and lets his eyes roam around the living room absently. He really does hope that Kelas doesn’t go back to leaving books all around his apartment again. Well, that can be one of the particulars they go over when they get together next. Garak imagines there’s going to be a lot of negotiation on the finer points of Julian sharing; not that Julian ever needs to know that.

“My dear Kelas,” he says before Parmak begins to worry. “I have a proposition for you...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we see the reason for the poly tag so yes there will be lots of Julian sharing going around and more scheming lizard besties.
> 
> Fun Fact: Parmak also has an "Emergency Cereal Box" too ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I really feel so bad for Julian >>


End file.
